


An Old Republic Story

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Devaronian Jedi, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Gray Jedi, Jedi Centric, Jedi/Jedi - Freeform, Jedi/Padawan - Freeform, Jedi/Sith - Freeform, M/M, Old Republic Era, Original Star Wars, POV Multiple, Padawan/Padawan, Pantoran Jedi, Possible Character Death, Roleplay Logs, Slow Burn, f/f - Freeform, f/m - Freeform, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:07:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22997419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Naam was immediately on her toes when Min picked something up, her senses sharpened with a calm sobriety that brought with it the familiar prickle of nostalgia. She spurred the Grasser onward, reminded of their adventures as padawan. The dark jungles of Onderon around them, the still, dense, humid air stirred only by the violent beasts he defended her from, and she fought equally for his life. They fought for one another as though fighting for themselves, as she wished she still could. She knew when her nostalgia turned to an ache that she should have shaken it off the second it made itself present.It was an attachment, and a forgotten one. Forgotten, she reminded herself.-The Sith are returning.A gray Jedi defected from the Jedi order several years ago while searching for a purpose. His former padawan, now a Jedi knight, reunites with an old lover. Simultaneously, a love blossoms between a padawan and a Sith with a shared Force bond.(Google Docs novella roleplay)





	1. Alek and Aaru

**Author's Note:**

> We began writing this in late December. As of posting, it has nearly 60k words and 10 chapters. It was a random decision to post this somewhere, just to see.
> 
> If you notice the formatting is clunky, then you’re right. This story is written collaboratively by two people, each person playing a single character. For example, I ‘play’ Min, Alek, Reign, and Aiza. Each person goes back and forth with their responses. And so that is why the formatting is slightly different from that of books. I apologize in advance, and hope it doesn’t take away from the story too much.

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…

A young, orphaned man was limping along in a half-gassed spacecraft manned by a single droid and himself. 

The shuttle was not meant as a fighter, nor as a freight. It was simply a cheap model of ship, just made for getting from point A to point B. 

It was all he could make off with during the Sith’s attack. 

He hadn’t been going in any particular direction. The ship was just cruising after he exited hyperspeed, autopiloting now to the nearest hospitable planet or moon on or off the maps. It didn’t utilize star maps, but rather detected planets within a certain radius for this limp function, and drifted vaguely for a sparsely-inhabited, tectonically active mountainous planet. 

Its land masses were small, and most of the planet was blue from his perspective so far away. It had three main land masses along its equator, it seemed, like moles surrounded by freckly islands. 

He sighed as the ship simply drifted on, eventually entering the atmosphere and dispensing its landing gear, intent on the rocky cliffside of the middle continent, if you could call such a little land mass a continent. 

It landed, and he didn’t get out. 

It shut off, and he didn’t get out. 

His droid beepled, and he didn’t get out. 

The R4 droid shook its ‘head’ and began scrambling their ship’s signature without instruction. 

It wasn’t often that Alek felt a disturbance in the Force. Even more rarely was one this great. He could sense great fear, hatred, and grief. The former Jedi stood from his spot in his camp.

It would be five years ago in just a few more months that he abandoned the Jedi order. A decision that he made roughly eight years ago, though it took him much time to solidify it. There was much convincing that both the Council and the other Jedi tried to do, but he declared that his destiny lay upon another path. 

And it did. 

The Force beckoned him elsewhere. It tormented him each night he remained with the Order. When he left, a great weight fell off his shoulders, although he still grieved from parting ways with his padawan — although by the time he left she was soon to be a Knight. He knew she would be an excellent Jedi. 

The former Jedi, on the other hand, traveled from planet to planet, system to system, moon to moon for two years. He eventually found himself here, a mostly oceanic planet merely known as Wu. The land it did have was sparse but hospitable, remaining a temperate climate year-round. And here he would stay, continuing his own personal training in harnessing the delicate balance of light and dark. He kept his formerly green saber, although now he wielded one with a brilliant purple color. 

He lived a hermit’s life, cooking his own food and living off the land — most importantly, training by himself and  _ waiting _ . For what, he didn’t know. But he was patient; with time, he would understand the path he had abandoned his whole life for. 

The planet was secluded. There were no sentient inhabitants. He was completely alone on Wu for over two years, the Force in this atmosphere completely belonging to him. 

Until now. 

He could feel it: someone else was here. He closed his eyes, feeling the energy of the other being. It was strong… could it be a Jedi found him? No… although the Force was greatly perturbed, he could tell it was an unharnessed, uncontrolled being of the Force. He put his belt with his saber and other tools around his waist and began to look around urgently. In the distance: smoke. It wasn’t from a fire. no — it was from a ship. 

It was quite a ways away, but he slid down the rocky hill hurriedly his camp was situated upon, approaching the crash-landed ship quickly.

Merely fifteen minutes passed when a hooded figure approached, face hidden under a cloak. It seemed benevolent enough, but it arrived in seemingly a hurry, before halting yards away from the site of the crash. 

The ship wasn’t terribly damaged in the landing, though autopilot landings rarely were so happy. The ship was leaning on a wing with the uneven ground, and inside sulked a shape that bled dangerous raw pain, fear, hurt.

Something inside him, however, had gnawed enough, insisted enough, that he reached up to press the button which would lift the top of the cockpit and allow the boy out. The blond boy didn’t move, though, just sitting, even as his droid dropped to the ground, and fell on its side pitifully. It squealed and chittered for help, worming and kicking all about on its stand, but could not right itself on the uneven stone. 

It was the first to notice the former Jedi, turning its eyespot to the man, and then asking politely for help in droid, his voice a cheery, high-pitched series of beeps and boops as it just sat, though, unlike its master, had no ability to help itself. 

A long pause, the only thing breaking the silence being the droid’s beeps. 

Alek treaded forward without a second thought. slowly lifting up the droid until it was upright. He stepped back to take a look at it. An R4 unit… he knew the beeps sounded familiar. Then, his gaze turned to examine the young boy in the ship. 

A sudden feeling of  _ awareness _ swept over him the moment he laid eyes on the boy. He already felt pulled to him the moment he felt his affinity with the Force, but now it was an inexplicable draw.  _ This _ was what he was waiting for. 

Though, immediately, he felt something off. The boy was unresponsive, and he could sense an overwhelming amount of pain and grief emanating from his seat in the cockpit. He stepped closer and lowered his hood, revealing a dark-skinned man with brown hair and a scruffy jaw. He looked up to the boy in the ship. Alek extended a hand to help him out of the wreck.

“Are you alright?”

Green eyes lifted to meet the figure of the lone populous of the planet, but the boy almost looked past him. 

“Yes,” he replied softly, and his eyes moved to the offered hand. The same feeling which compelled him to open the cockpit urged him to take the figure’s hand and blindly help himself out, unbuckling and sliding down the wing slowly, before he stumbled, and then crumpled to the ground like wet tissue.

Obviously, he was not in a state to function normally, and the droid squealed his concern, wheeling around to check on his master, all while chattering worriedly in droid and performing biological scans just to be certain he was not ailing. 

Alek frowned, watching as the boy fell to the ground. He glanced to the chattering droid, then pat its metallic head. It was rare, but it was someone who was kind to droids. It was clearly distressed and concerned for the boy, so he attempted to provide some comfort.

“You aren’t alright. Come on, stand up. You’re starving,” he observed. The blond was shaking and thin. Of course, he could be shaking from fear, but there was no way he wasn’t hungry too, since he didn’t see any rations on him. He didn’t ask any questions about how he got here or where he was from, merely offered help immediately. 

Of course, Alek liked to think of himself as a kind person, but either way, this kid was definitely what he was waiting for all along. He wouldn’t drop that on him now. First, food and rest. He offered a hand down to him once again. 

The strange blond boy looked up at it, said nothing, and took the hand. He was somewhat thin, but not emaciated—perhaps more dehydrated than anything else—and trembled as he slowly pulled himself to his feet. 

He didn’t want to. He didn’t know why. He only knew one thing: that he must go with this man. 

It wasn’t seeking help, or because he was wanted. He felt, in the most profound and inexplicable of ways, that he was  _ needed _ somewhere, and not for any certain reason either. All that could be determined for certain was that this man was the way to discover what this feeling meant, and such a destination was as compelling as any starvation ever was. 

The face that helped him up was as friendly as ever, and he flashed a smile before turning, cape wavering in the wind behind him. 

“Come. Let’s get you some food and water.” He began walking toward his camp, which wasn’t too far. The moment their hands parted ways and he turned his back to the boy, he already felt some kind of connection to him. He knew this boy was important — as well as had some kind of affinity with the Force. Without a doubt, he was special, and the Force had guided him here to this planet that the gray Jedi dwelled on. 

He beckoned the droid to follow as well. It was a short journey to his encampment, stepping over rocks and little streams, small creatures scurrying out from under their feet. Some followed Alek in his wake, and in turn walking beside the blond boy that followed. Smoke from a fire could be seen atop a hill in the distance. 

“I have a feeling you’ve got a story to tell,” he spoke after walking in silence briefly. 

The boy who had crashed wasn’t really looking out for the curious little creatures who followed them, most barely scurrying out of the way of his uneven gait. He seemed to be on the brink of syncope, his eyelids fluttering as he neglected to reply. He’d need to be sitting down before he could recount his tail to any extent. 

The smoke in the approaching distance was noted by an upward turn of his eyes. Somewhere to sit, at last. It felt as though they’d be walking for ages on this uneven terrain, even if it’d been but a few minutes. To his tired, weary self, this was a march. 

“I need water,” he finally rasped, the ghost of a voice rather than true words breaking their walk. 

The man stopped and turned on his heel, cape whipping behind him. He reached down and unscrewed a canteen off of his belt, then held it out to the boy. 

“Should have said so before.” A particular little green creature crawled up his leg and onto his shoulder, resembling a fox-like squirrel. It had big eyes and three pairs of legs and a white underbelly. He reached up to scratch its chin. It seemed the man had befriended the creatures of the planet, especially this one. At his feet were little mice-like creatures that seemed wary of the newcomer, though still not as wary as little prey animals should have been. 

The fox creature on his shoulder in particular was fat and would be slow in escaping from any predators, so it seemed this island was ill-inhabited by any predators — which likely included the man himself. It seemed he was as harmless as the fat mice and birds that surrounded him. 

After a pause, taking the bottle, he turned and continued to walk, the green fox thing still on his shoulder. It turned and chattered at the boy and droid, seemingly curious. 

The droid scanned the thing with a blue laser as they walked, and the blond boy stared dully ahead. The droid boopled and whirred, its light switching to red, then blue again. It swiveled its red head and scanned on of the mice things as well, and then a birdlike creature, when he was able to catch one. 

Obviously, it was quite a bit more awake than its commander was, busy looking at the world and ensuring his master was not left behind if he did fall. Aaru’s feet were beginning to drag as he wore on, getting close to the camp far too slowly, his gaze dropping to the stones beneath their feet instead of the chubby wildlife. 

He hauled himself up the hill, standing up top and waiting for the boy to follow. It wasn’t too steep, so it shouldn’t have been too hard for him to climb by himself. 

At the top of the hill was the dying fire that emitted smoke, a makeshift tent with a makeshift bed in it, a small farm of different native crops, and several places where his things were kept and stored. The man quickly found his way to a backpack, shuffling through it before giving the boy two fruits: one a purple apple-like fruit, the other red and nearly banana-shaped. Both were juicy and hydrating. 

“Eat these, kid. In the meantime, I’ll make you an egg too.” He walked over to where two fowl sat. They resembled turkeys but were fatter, shorter, and had longer beaks. He reached under one and took an egg, and she allowed it without protest. He tucked it under his arm and stoked the fire, before breaking the egg into the pan over the fire. 

As he sat in the tent, practically collapsing, he knocked back the container of water and downed most of it before violently coughing as he inhaled just a little, though this did not stop his desperate drinking. His urge to drink far outweighed his instinct to breathe for a moment before he simply dropped the bottle and gasped air. 

Then, hesitant of the foreign plant, he took a bite of the purple fruit, which inside, was rather like a very juicy grape. The juices ran down his face as he grunted, and then sucked on the sugary flesh desperately, the moisture wetting his clammy throat.

He took a breath, and then dove in again, careful to let as little juice as he could run from him this time, basically drinking the rich fruit and only speaking once halfway finished with it. “Thank you,” he said a little more clearly, finally remembering his will to eat and drink with the delicious food. “I don’t think I was gonna last very much longer,” he admitted softly. 

Alek observed the boy quench and feed himself, leaning against the wooden foundation of his tent. He rubbed his stubbly chin, then pet the small fox-animal on his shoulder.

“No problem,” he responded softly, brows furrowed slightly. The Force strengthened as the boy did, he could feel it. It was a strength in the Force that not even his young padawan had back at the temple. He knew that he had something to do with the tension he felt for many months now… he felt that tension alleviate since his arrival. 

Alek went back over to his pan and flipped the egg once before taking it off the fire and setting a fork in the hot pan. He set the pan on a cloth in front of the newcomer. “You need some protein, too.”

He took a bite of the, apparently crunchy like an apple, banana fruit, and started to cut the egg up with a shaking hand, making bite sized bits and sort of wondering why the yolk was brown instead of yellow. Otherwise, it was quite similar to any other old egg, usually yellow, and sometimes red. 

The droid rolled over to one of the laying birds and scanned one, making it indignantly squawk and flutter its wings with the bright light in its eye. It pecked the droid, who squeaked and backpedaled quickly, making a b-line for his master’s side and cowering there. 

“Thank you, and… who are you, sir?” The young boy asked. “You’re the sole inhabitant of this planet,” he noted, his droid looking between them. “R4 didn’t even know anybody was here.” He took another slow bite of the fruit, his stomach beginning to ache now that it was so suddenly full.

The mysterious figure lowered himself down before the boy, cross-legged and taking off his hood. The little fox creature crawled down his arm and jumped down to sit on his lap instead. 

“I am Alek. I came here for the sole reason that there’s not a single other sentient being here.” His voice was somewhat raspy. It was unused, coarse. He looked out to the small fire outside, then to the blond boy. “I’ve been here for… I don’t know how long. Haven’t counted the days. But what about you? What are  _ you _ doing here? You’re so young… so far from home.”

He refrained from commenting on the amount of fear and pain he sensed, deciding that the boy could learn of the Force when he was much more calm and ready for such a revelation. His energy reminded him vaguely of… he sighed and shook his head. It was a part of his self-discipline to not dwell on the past and what he left behind.

“I… I’m a runaway. A survivor, more like… the sith and their forces attacked my home world. We don’t know why, even, though we assume it’s something to do with galactic politics we have no say in… I-I don’t know. I don’t know why they did it. I just know that the droids came in and ravaged… everything,” he whispered, his head falling as he scraped around the pieces of egg on the pan. “My family is gone. My life. My home planet is a prison now,” he explained slowly, his eyes burning with the need for tears, but the lack of ability to produce them. 

“I guess I’m here too now,” he sighed, tapping the fork in the puddle of yolk in the hot pan. He was less hungry, suddenly, despite being starved. “Nowhere else I can go, and who knows if stragglers are being sought out.”

“...The Sith,” he repeated aloud, eyes clouding over after that was spoken. He hardly heard the rest. The man looked over to the boy, eyes wide. 

“The Sith have returned?” It explained the disturbance he felt for months now, but certainly the Jedi could have had it under control by now… He swallowed thickly. “They destroyed your town, but why,” he pondered to himself, before turning to face away from the boy, still sitting. The green creature chattered and crawled up to his shoulder. The Sith weren’t so needlessly destructive, they would only use such resources if they were looking for something… Alek looked over his shoulder to the scrawny, short kid that sat behind him. 

“...They were looking for you.” 

The boy considered this, wrinkling his nose, then shook his head, dismissing the idea. “No, that’s impossible. They’d have caught me by now, or followed me… I’ve been in my cruiser for days,” he denied. 

Though it did explain the way the Sith and their droids marched to each home, tearing them apart individually before murdering the innocents inside. He remembered the smoke in the sky, the sounds of blasters filling the air. At the thought, the young one hung his head and stabbed a bit of egg on the fork. 

Others escaped, but… few. Most ships attempting to leave the atmosphere were shot down. 

“I don’t see why they would anyway.”

Alek could feel that the boy was remembering again. He scooted closer to him, then put a hand on his shoulder. His lips parted as he searched the boy’s being, his weak mind that allowed him to slip in and see his thoughts and memories. 

The boy’s mind was strong. He could only see his thoughts in silhouettes, like peering through frosted glass. What he could see was the burning of homes, the slaughter and capture of men and women and children. He could feel the boy’s fear and pain for a moment, hear his thoughts and the sounds of blasters and explosions. He blinked, then took his hand away. 

“You were meant to come here. To come to me. I can feel it. They were searching for you. Tell me your name,” he spoke, picking up his fox companion and letting it settle in his hand. He pet it idly. 

“I’m… Aaru,” he frowned, furrowing his brows, and looked up at the strange man. “Aaru Earl… but… what did you just do to me? And don’t say you didn’t do something, I know you did, and I’m  _ not _ crazy,” he insisted, suddenly agitated.

“You’re a force-user. You are, aren’t you! That means you’re a Jedi,” he accused. “O-Or a Sith! What are you?”

Naturally, with his home world just having been destroyed by the Sith forces, he was understandably agitated at the idea. But, realizing his weakness, and his reliance on the man, he slouched slightly. “Please tell me you’re not a Sith.”

The alleged force-user sat up, still sitting cross-legged. He straightened his back and sighed. 

“I did do something. I did use the Force,” he answered patiently. “I read your thoughts. Felt your fear. Your home world was destroyed by the Sith… I have been to this planet before. Your home planet was Kezuno, wasn’t it?” he said, mainly to prove that he did indeed read the boy’s mind. 

“I am neither Sith nor Jedi. I was once trained in the Jedi Order, I lived by their code, and trained alongside other Jedi, but I parted ways with them long ago. I’m not a Sith… I didn’t have a clue that they had returned. I couldn’t be a Sith anyway, if I wasn’t strong enough to remain a Jedi.”

His green creature jumped out of his palm and crept toward the R4 unit curiously. 

The R4 kicked its stand out to look down at the curious creature, swiveling its head, seeming to think for a moment, and then scanning it with a bright white ray to record its biodata. It whirred, and then beeped at the life form, extending its key arm for the little thing to smell. 

Aaru seemed awe-struck, even though he wasn’t surprised by the news. “So the Jedi… they  _ are  _ real? I knew it, I told them… I told them! But…” He suddenly seemed ashamed of himself for speaking ill of the dead. “But I guess they’d probably believe me now if they were all still around.”

“But wait,” he recalled, “Why would they be looking for me? Is it because I’m… well, at least I think I am force-sensitive,” he blushed, as he was usually shamed for making such a guess without the ability to back it up in front of others. 

The creature was spooked by the ray, squeaking and fluffing out its squirrel-like tail. After that was done, it settled down a little, moving closer. It didn’t seem afraid, as there weren’t any predators for the little creature around. 

Alek nodded at the boy’s revelation. “They are. I’m surprised you were skipped over. We take force-sensitive children to be trained as Jedi.” He looked outside of the tent as he heard winds pick up, seeing that it was becoming overcast. 

“They’re looking for you because they know something about you that neither of us know. There are many force-sensitive individuals in the galaxy — you  _ are _ sensitive, I can feel it.” The man stood, then walked to the opening of the tent. 

“But too old to train. A shame.”

Aaru deadpanned, processing this, before promptly disagreeing. “Hey, wait! You can’t just say something like that and then tell me I can’t be trained! I-I can’t even live a normal life now, and you’re telling me the Jedi won’t take me?” He stood, his thighs shaking with weakness as he followed the man. “What am I supposed to do, then, huh? Why can’t I be trained,” he continued a barrage of questions and passionate upset, his droid rolling a little closer and cooing with concern, turning its attention from the funny little fuzz-creature. 

“You have to tell me why, or at least what I can do,” he demanded. 

“The Jedi won’t take you. They won’t train you, you’re far too old and… unconditioned.” He watched as birds retreated to their nests in the rocks of the hilly island as it was soon to rain. The rains of Wu were heavy and ruthless. It began to sprinkle as his cloak was buffeted in the wind, the former Jedi grateful that they had retreated into the tent before the rain began to fall. 

“But I am not a Jedi.” He gave a side glance to Aaru, giving him a charming smile. He knew he was taking up quite the challenge, but he was ready to accept it. If the Sith were searching for this boy, he had to be special. The Force guided Alek here, then guided Aaru here. It was meant to be. 

“Wait, you? You’re gonna train me?”

Small drops of water began to stain his clothes, and began to stick to his cheek. Aaru’s messy hair twitched in the wind of the coming storm. “Why? You came to this planet to run, didn’t you? So why are you going back to the life you’re running from? Why for me?”

The raindrops rapidly became more substantial, and the wind colder, the life forms of the planet ducking into their burrows and hopping back into the tiny streams in which they lived, knowing better of the coming weather than the outsider to the planet did. They could sense the power rising around them, the awakening of something timeless and primordial. 

Alek extended his arm and held his cloak out over Aaru, shielding him from the rains. Some birds retreated into his tent, and he looked out as the half-covered sun was slowly falling down below the blue-green ocean of Wu. A ship remained on the horizon at the shore of the small island, its lacquered hull being ravaged by emerging waves from the storm, still glittering in the warm light of a setting sun. 

“Yes. I’ll train you.” He looked down at his new apprentice, then raised a brow at his following questions. 

“I didn’t run away. They let me leave. I defected due to my disagreements with the Council. I’m still a Jedi at heart.” The man turned and went back into his tent, then shuffled through some things. He pulled out something wrapped in silky cloth and carefully tied with dark strings. “As for why  _ you _ ,” he began, turning and dropping the item in Aaru’s palms, “I feel that you were drawn here for a reason. You’re a little bit older than what I’m used to, but I can already feel your profound affinity for the Force.” 

He put a hand on the heavy item, looking down at Aaru with a slight smile. “This is for you. My old lightsaber. It saved my life many times.”

Aaru gawked down at the gift, and then looked up at the former Jedi.

“I can’t take this.” He offered back the saber. “I’m not trained, I’m not worthy of it,” he shook his head, not daring unwrap such a heavy gift. “Besides, what if the Sith find me here, if they’re looking for me as you say? I can’t defend us with this.”

The wind still raged around them and the sturdy tent, only picking up as they stood talking, and Aaru projected his voice to speak over the dull, but growing roar. 

He chuckled, then pulled his own saber from his belt. “I’ve got my own. How else are you going to learn if you don’t have your own?” He held it up, then hooked it back to the belt around his waist. The sturdy tent was buffeted, but it held its own against the winds. 

“You’re worthy. You’re powerful… if I had to venture a guess, you’re much more powerful than me. It must be why the Sith are searching for you — they want you and your potential.” He took his hand off the wrapped saber. Alek looked down at his feet to see his creature watching the boy and droid with great interest. 

“How do you know I’m strong,” he looked down at the sacred weapon. “How do you know I’m all these special things? You seem so sure. Is it…”  _ the Force. _ That wonderful, magical thing that the Jedi harnessed that made them such formidable warriors and keepers of galactic penis.

Aaru knew it was. He knew it was because he felt it too, somewhere in the back of the deepest parts of his minds, he knew this was right, that Alek was to be his mentor. His Master. The Sith were searching for him, he had known it all along, but also not known at all. So this was the Force. 

“I’m as sure as the Sith are. As sure as you are. It’s the Force.” He held his hood up with a hand, the winds battering his cloak. His smile widened and he looked down at Aaru with wide green eyes. He looked old and tired but awake and young at the same time, brown hair wet and ruined by the rains. It had been years since he looked into another’s eyes, and even longer since he had felt such a bond to another. 

“Well then, Aaru, do you accept my mentorship?”

The young man looked up, and steadily into the eyes of the once-Jedi, his green eyes ablaze with passion even with the sky darkening above them. He took the weapon, and stuffed it down into his vest pocket, where it fit just right. 

“I accept… Master.”


	2. Min and Naam

There was a certain stagnation at the temple. 

It seemed there were less missions to go around, less excitement and absolutely nothing to do. For Min Lars-Dak, this was fantastic. 

His young padawan had fallen behind on their studies due to the amount of back-to-back missions they embarked on, and while it gave her good experience, he disapproved of the fact that she wasn’t keeping up with others academically. 

For the month and a half they were stationed at the temple, it was full of rigorous physical training and studying — mainly the latter at first. There was no such thing as a day off to the Jedi, believing that a Jedi’s purpose was to be devoted to training, education, and to the well-being of the Order. 

It wasn’t long before she caught up academically. She excelled, and of that, he was proud. After she was caught up, he changed their regimen to mainly physical training. It was in the middle of one of these sessions his communicator went off. 

“You’re too slow, not reactive enough — how can I take you out in the field if you can’t block with your saber?” he lectured, sheathing his own blue lightsaber and standing up straight to look at the com on his wrist. He had received a message. 

It seemed that finally, after a nearly two-months long break, they were given a mission. He read over the details with a furrowed brow. They were to go to Haruun Kal — a treacherous jungle planet — and find a... he squinted his eyes. 

_ Search for a Sith holocron we have detected _ , it said. 

Min looked to his padawan. Was she even ready for a mission such as this? Since the rumored return of the Sith, they could truly be dealing with Sith on a mission such as this... he glanced to her, then back to the com with a sigh. Perhaps it was because they were partnered with some others, likely highly trained ones. He scrolled down to look at the roster. They were paired with only another Jedi and their padawan. When he read the name, his breath hitched slightly. Naam Yero and her padawan Aiza Xenia. 

It had been a long time since they were paired together. Such a long time, indeed, that he was unsure if their two padawans had ever met. 

The Jedi took the com and held it out to his padawan for her to read. 

“We have a new mission.”

The young padawan leaned in, reading through the com’s short message. 

“The Sith. So they weren’t just rumors,” she noted, standing straight, her grey eyes lidded and calm despite her labored breaths from the intense training. “I knew could feel a disturbance in the Force… I hoped it was just a bad feeling,” Shedua admitted, often bringing such feelings up to her Master. 

She always did have a strong affinity for the Force, and tended to follow what it told her, but of course, she was not yet well enough in tune with the Force to trust it completely. “So we’re working with Master Yero. It must be a significant mission in the eyes of the council if two Jedi and two padawan are assigned to it.” 

Siths, or at least what she knew about them, were highly dangerous Force-wielders, sometimes Masters of the dark side. She imagined it might be like facing a Jedi master in battle. They must be outnumbered by those of their same skill to have a chance of being bested. 

“I felt it too, kid,” he agreed, taking the com back. “I knew it wasn’t a rumor. I have never personally encountered a Sith, though I have the feeling we will on this mission… Damn. A Sith holocron. They must trust your abilities. You’ll be a knight in no time,” he said, though knew she had quite a ways to go still. 

He shoved the com into his pocket, stretched his arms over his head, then sighed and turned. 

“We’ve got to start packing. We’re meeting our partners at the station near Haruun Kal. It’s a short ride.” The man turned to go to his room and pack everything he needed, though as a Jedi he had no personal possessions other than clothes and his saber, so it was a quick pack. 

The ride to Haruun Kal Station was short just as he promised — a pilot took them to their destination in just a few hours’ ride. Min seemed quiet the whole ride there, as if anxious. He didn’t speak a word the whole time, pacing across the deck. When they landed, he still seemed distressed, but did his best to hide it. It wasn’t anything his padawan couldn’t pick up on, though. 

When they arrived, the station was rather desolate. Not many were heading into or out of a planet like Haruun Kal — that much was evident. Still, he led his padawan through the station, looking around for his old friend and her padawan. He was clearly nervous — not something the serious and reserved Jedi was often. 

In his nervousness, Min had missed Naam, who was tucked into the shade with her own apprentice, resting her eyes. 

She felt no nerve awaiting her old flame, only anxiousness. With each passing moment, she could feel him growing ever closer, her eyes opening once he landed. When it was time, and the man was just about to pass her up entirely, she reached out and tapped his arm. 

“Hey, Jedi. Let’s see some ID,” she mimicked a Station worker with a grin, wondering if Min might play along, or if he’d be a hardass just like he would all those years ago. 

In front of others, that was. 

The padawan seemed amused, smiling casually, but remained quiet, allowing her master to react and speak first on his own. 

The knight had stopped in his tracks, glancing to his padawan, and turning. 

He would have fallen for it, had that voice not been so familiar — and when he turned, had that tanned orange skin and freckles not be so distinct: burnt into his mind by a reckless youth. Min was wordless at first, before he cleared his throat. 

“Knight Yero,” he greeted, giving a dip of his head. Several things about the man had changed since their last meeting: his hair was longer, his robes were black rather than the usual brown or white worn by Jedi, and he had a beard now. The scar was still there, over his brow and extending to his cheek. Lastly, there was a young padawan at his side. 

Beside Naam stood another young padawan: a pantoran girl. Her greenish eyes were full of youthful fire, and when Min glanced to her, it vaguely reminded him of the look in Naam’s eye all those years ago. 

“Knight Lars-Dak. It’s been too long. I’ll need to thank Master Aldan for the pleasure once this mission is done,” she smiled softly. The faint gesture moved her dark freckles ever so slightly, and Knight Yero gestured to her student. “This is Aiza, if you don’t remember. She’s blossomed brilliantly since you met, but I don’t believe you were assigned your padawan last we saw one another,” she took the lead in the conversation politely, but professionally. “You ought to introduce us both.”

He put a hand on Shedua’s shoulder. “I remember Aiza. She’s a bit older than this one. This is Shedua, my padawan.” The man squeezed her shoulder, then removed it. “She is quite talented in the Force. I remember that Aiza excelled at handling her lightsaber, so perhaps mine could learn a thing or two from her.” 

Aiza smiled, then waved to the slightly younger padawan. She was less than humble about her skills with a saber, though she was often reminded by her elders that she must know herself and her weaknesses. Of course, she didn’t believe she had any weaknesses, and that she would be a Jedi knight before any of her contemporaries. 

Min raised a brow. “Master Aldan? What did he have to do with this?”

“Let’s discuss that later, hm? For now, allow me to debrief you on what I’ve learned of our objective,” she began to walk, falling into line beside Min, their padawans in tow. “As you know, we are tasked with finding a Sith holocron. However, this planet is quite hostile. We cannot take vehicles due to the density of the flora and fungi, so we will be riding on Grassers, and we must be careful where we venture. Before we go, we will be misted with Portaak Amber to protect our clothes and lightsabers from the metal and silicate-corrosive spores. There are none that will harm us, or the actual kyber crystals, but we must not be more than two days in this jungle, else our electronics, clothes, and whatever else we’ve got will more or less decay right off of us.” 

Shedua made a small grimace at the mention of the fungi, having done her homework and expecting the hostile environment. “And don’t forget the parasites… we should all be wary of our skin, ears, and noses… and whatever we do, we cannot be stung by fever wasps. If you’re made their host, you’re a dead man,” she interrupted to warn, a habit Min seemed to quite dislike, and Naam nodded. 

“Good looking out, young padawan. You’re sharp.”

The Jedi sighed and followed behind the woman, listening intently to her briefing and walking beside her. He stared forward, nodding as she talked. The man glanced back to Shedua when she interrupted Naam. He gave her a stern look, but didn’t say anything. When he looked forward again, Aiza giggled and nudged her playfully with elbow. 

“Your master’s kinda scary,” she whispered. 

“He’s not so bad,” Shedua assured Aiza with an amused smirk, now reassured that not everybody in the galaxy thought that her often helpful advice was disrespectful. “He just thinks he’s scary.”

Min looked back to Naam. “We’re all to wear face masks. I won’t risk anyone getting a parasite during our expedition.” 

Naam agreed wholeheartedly, as most sane people might. “Absolutely. I prefer to live, thank you. Eugh, parasites. Anyway. We’ve got a day to go out, and a day to come back in. We’ll be turning around if nothing is found before the time of departure tomorrow,” she determined. “Should we keep good pace on the Grassers, this should be more than enough time,” she walked them to a small station before the doors, an archway which entered and exited through a clear barrier door. “This is a peninsula we stand on, and a narrow one… the holocron mustn’t be far.”

The barrier sealed behind them as they entered, and four masks were provided to the Jedi on droid arms emerging from the walls. Each one of the four took one, and secured it to their face, before the nozzles came alive. Naam did not explain what was happening, as she already had: this was where they’d be misted with Portaak Amber.

Naturally, being misted with something quite sticky was not altogether pleasant, but it was better than having one’s clothes and lightsaber quite literally rot away. 

Min cringed while he was misted, though remained mostly composed. It smelled disgusting… ugh. He looked to the woman’s padawan, watching as she nearly clawed her mask off. However, it remained secure. He looked to his own padawan, who surprisingly remained calm. He put a hand on her shoulder, then followed the woman again. He huffed… she was the same as she always had been: a born leader. 

Once the second barrier cleared, Naam lead them out with confident strides, and locals met them with two massive, nearly two-ton reptomammals, hexapods who were readily grazing upon the short shrubbery beneath them, a bulbous third eye examining the Jedi warily in between their larger, similarly lidless and insectlike primary eyes on either side of their heads. One raised its head, and Naam was greeted by a Korunnai, a native of this land, with the reins of the beast. 

“Be wary, but do not panic, my sister,” he warned. “The jungles of this planet have been known to swallow alive those who refuse to see their way home. We wish you luck,” the pair bowed shallowly to the Jedi.

As this exchange passed, Shedua huffed. “Ugly things, aren’t they,” she commented to Aiza, nodding to the Grassers. “A face only a mother could love on those.”

“I know, right?” She waved her hand in front of her face. “They stink, too.”

He looked up to the large creatures, puzzled at their size, though he had seen much more bizarre species. After the pair bowed, he dipped his head respectfully, then walked faster to catch up to Naam. “We must be hasty,” he reminded. “If you’re anything like before, I must remind you that we’re going to leave early, with or without the Holocron.” He was worrying as always, especially about his padawan (whom he definitely trusted, but she was too young to risk anything). 

The Jedi turned to his padawan, then offered out his hands for her to step on to mount the large creature that they would be sharing. He refused to let her ride alone, or even with the other padawan.

This wasn’t a huge deal to the padawan, who readily mounted with a Force-hop and some help from Min, settling herself down atop it as Naam replied, he voice muffled somewhat by her mask. “I wonder what early means to you. To me, it’s twenty-three hours and fifty nine minutes,” she hoisted her own padawan to the back of the Grasser. “I plan on getting this mission done,” she lifted the reins, causing the beast to lift its head and groan. “Do you, Min?” She turned her mount, watching Min with cool, but playful eyes. 

It was amusingly apparent to her that overcareful Min hadn’t changed a bit. 

He took the reins of his Grasser after getting on, looking back at his padawan. “Hold on tight,” he instructed. Then, he looked to the Jedi. 

“That isn’t going to happen. If I have to, I’ll drag all three of you out of that jungle.” He glanced forward again stubbornly, pulling his hood up over his mask. “I intend to complete this mission. But I won’t risk any lives in the process, especially not our padawans’. Now, if you will, Naam, lead the way,” he responded gruffly. 

Aiza mounted the beast with little trouble, then scooted behind her master and gripped tightly so she wouldn’t fall off. She glanced to Shedua, then to Min, wondering what the old-married-couple bickering was all about. 

“In case I never told you, Aiza,” Naam quieted herself to speak only to her padawan, “this is my old friend. We trained side by side, as our masters were close. I hope we’ll be seeing more of Min and his padawan… I’m a strong believer in peer learning, as well as learning from one’s master,” she started the beast off into the forest, working quickly up to a purposeful trot, the beast’s massive feet moving slow, but covering much more ground in a stride than the Jedi team could ever hope to in such dense brush. 

Meanwhile, Shedua was asking the most invasive of questions. “Master, you seem to know one another well. How long have you known one another? Obviously a long time… you must be old friends, based on your immediate bickering alone. Unless you’re old enemies? Frenemies,” she continued to guess, enthusiastic, but calm in voice. 

“I could tell you guys were friends. Were you close?” Aiza asked, looking around them as they began into the dense jungle. “I hope we’ll see more of them too,” she spoke lowly. “I like his padawan.” As for him… he seemed alright, if not a little grumpy.

Min stared forward as she barraged him with questions, his brows furrowed under the mask. He sighed as he thought of a way to carefully describe their past, following behind the Jedi and her padawan as they navigated through dense brush. He was a bit curious on how they were supposed to find a holocron in this, but just decided to see where Naam led them. He looked back over his shoulder to Shedua. 

“You could say we were good friends when we were padawans. Kadau and her master trained alongside one another and were close, and so we found ourselves training and on many missions together,” he responded.

Naam nodded. “She seems nice, doesn’t she? I’ll admit, I don’t know her well,” she swayed with the gait of the Grasser. “Perhaps you can get to know her for me. I anticipate that if we see each other once, we will be seeing each other again,” she squeezed the sides of the creature to spur it on, which it groaned and began to plod on a bit quicker. 

“Why haven’t we been on many missions with her before, then?” A very direct, but excellent question, digging into the meat of their history without even knowing it. 

Aiza smiled and nodded. “Will do.” She leaned her chin on her master’s shoulder to look over her, seeing only dense forestry and brush ahead. She sighed, then took her chin off. “Just where are we going, Master Yero?” 

Min didn’t answer for a moment, then straightened his back. “We simply have not been paired together since your apprenticeship. That’s all.” He took the question quite well, though his voice was a little defensive. Typically Jedi who were close worked together often or at least occasionally. 

"You tell me, young padawan. Where do you feel we are going?" It was a task for only a Jedi to find a relic unseen, the Force guiding her through the dense forest. It was unlikely that Aiza had refined her connection so that she could feel a reliable path ahead, but she would not squander her student's attempts to try. 

"Really? Is it something to do with me, then? It seems like an odd thing to do for no reason, if you two trained together. Speaking of… why is it that I seldom train with other padawans?" Always with her questions, Shedua persisted. 

The girl blinked slowly, then closed her eyes. She didn’t respond at first, instead attempting to focus herself. She was quiet for a few long moments, then let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know. I kind of feel it, but I couldn’t tell you where we’re going. Can you really feel with the Force where to go?” She wasn’t necessarily that skilled with the Force, instead being the type to prefer waving her saber around.

Min sighed, but was (usually) patient with her questions. “No, it doesn’t have anything to do with you. Simply put, I prefer working alone. With you, of course.” If he had a choice, he would do everything by himself, but he was at least used to having a padawan now. “That includes even with friends. Master Aldan, on the Council, acknowledges this. That is why we mostly work alone and without other padawans. I have never forbidden you from training with other padawans, but I can’t say I’ve ever encouraged it either. I simply believe that peers… can be a distraction.”

“I can, though I don’t know where it leads. It very well may not be the holocron at all, for any number of reasons. The Force knows better than I do where I am meant to be going,” she explained. “Please don’t worry if you cannot feel it. I’ll be sure that you can some day. And do you know what I’ll put you through to make sure of it?” Naam looked over her shoulder at her padawan, her smile wide and smug, though she showed no teeth just yet. It was nearly the smile of a parent kindly tormenting their child in the same way the parent’s parents teased them; vastly amused, remorseless, and peculiarly vengeful. 

“I suppose they can be, Master. You’ve an excellent point,” she agreed, accepting her trainer’s perspective considerately. 

However. 

She was short as she spoke, and kept her reservations to herself… something was on her master’s mind, and there was absolutely no way of finding out what that might be without inference, which was all she had going for her right now. Min was regrettably, as he had just made note of, independent, which was lovely for one-on-one training, but Min’s perspective was all she ever received.

The girl puffed, furrowing her brows. “Nothing I can’t handle, Master,” she responded, returning the smirk with one of her own. While her abilities with the Force were nothing remarkable, she wasn’t insecure or worried about it, mainly due to her master’s attitude and encouragement. 

Min left the conversation there. It was pointless and perhaps even dangerous to continue, so he was silent as they rode along. In the silence, since he wasn’t babbling to his padawan like his fellow Jedi, he felt a particular… disturbance. It was unsettling and quite disconcerting, though likely it was a lead. No doubt that a Sith holocron would create such a feeling in him. It was vague and faint, so much so it took even the Jedi focus to feel it. When he did, he took the reigns of the grasser, who in turn grunted. He spurred the animal so he was in front of the other, looking back to the other women and leading it to the source of such a disturbance.

“Follow me. I believe it is near,” he said, before looking forward again and steering the animal through the dense forestry. 

Naam was immediately on her toes when Min picked something up, her senses sharpened with a calm sobriety that brought with it the familiar prickle of nostalgia. She spurred the Grasser onward, reminded of their adventures as padawan. The dark jungles of Onderon around them, the still, dense, humid air stirred only by the violent beasts he defended her from, and she fought equally for his life. They fought for one another as though fighting for themselves, as she wished she still could. She knew when her nostalgia turned to an ache that she should have shaken it off the second it made itself present. 

It was an attachment, and a forgotten one. Forgotten, she reminded herself. 

The Devaronion leaned forward and the Grasser groaned, speeding up behind Min’s. 

Shedua looked over her shoulder, then leaned forward and shut her eyes. Surely her master had felt something… it must have passed, but perhaps she could catch wind of it if she really tried. Suddenly, her eyes fluttered open, sooner than she ever thought it would, and more clearly, she could feel a  _ feeling _ . Never before, though, had the Force overwhelmed her in such a frightening and impressive way. “Something’s wrong,” she could hardly help but stammer out.

“There is. There’s something terribly wrong,” he told her, letting the Force lead him to their target. He held his hood up with a hand as they increased in speed through the brush. “It’s nearby. Can you feel it?” His young padawan could feel it… could a holocron really do that? 

Aiza watched as Min took the lead. She knew that he must have felt something, and subsequently her own master when she felt some kind of…  _ ache _ overcome her. 

“Master,” she began, “I felt something… but I don’t think it was what he felt. It was from you, just now,” she recalled.

“I feel it,” Shedua assured, her heart pounding as the beast crashed through the bushes, appearing nervous itself. The jungles around them were silent, no insects hummed and no distant creatures screamed or croaked. “Is that what the dark side feels like, Master?” 

It shouldn’t have had such allure, such buzzing energy. It churned Shedua’s stomach the pure potential behind it, like a compressed spring, a blaster with a hair trigger, or a beam supporting  _ almost  _ too much weight. 

Fear, or rather apprehension, permeated the forest tangibly, and the beasts puffed, running in part out of panic now. 

“What did you feel?” Naam did not strike down her padawan’s detection… how could she? Acting defensive only made her guilty. Perhaps her padawan had detected something else entirely. Naam mustn’t dwell on it, and pay attention to their surroundings, but also attend her student. 

“An ache… sadness, maybe? I don’t know.”

“Yes… I believe it is. My master told me about this. It’s seductive, but there is much more pain on the other side,” he responded, edging ever closer to the source of the tremor. 

It was then that the beasts led them to a clearing, and in the middle of said clearing some sort of ancient temple. 

“Sith architecture,” he noted aloud, brows furrowed beneath the mask. He hitched the grasser against a tree, then slid off the beast. “It’s in there, without a doubt,” he said with a slightly louder voice to the other women as well. He reached down and grabbed his saber, taking it off of his belt and thumbing the button, but not turning it on yet. He crept toward the temple, cautious yet bold as he led his crew inside. 

“Well, I’m not sure who else might make a temple in the middle of the jungle on a highly toxic and dangerous planet,” Shedua dryly replied. “Besides the Jedi, that is,” she smirked, even despite the pounding in her chest and throat as she followed behind Min. Somebody had to keep morale up. 

Naam glanced over her shoulder. “Yes, that was me. I’m quite surprised you sensed that… we can discuss it later, if you’d like. For now…” She hoisted a leg over the saddle and slid down the side of the beast, who moved closer to the other, both having watchful, cautious eyes on the temple. “We must do our duty.” 

“You’re right,” Aiza whispered back. Of course, she would ask about it later… for now, she followed closely behind Min and Naam, hand on her own saber.

The man entered the temple slowly, finding that there were not windows to allow light in. He turned on his saber to let it illuminate their surroundings, the temple lit now by a brilliant blue. Min looked back at the three, then gestured them toward him. “Stay close, and stay alert. We don’t know what’s in here.” By now, his stomach was churning, and the feeling was becoming unbearable. In the walls were carvings in the Sith language, and the place was most certainly abandoned for quite a long time. Min’s hand traced the walls, fascinated with the history of the place. 

He pressed on, and as they drew nearer, he became increasingly sickened. Something was wrong,  _ terribly _ wrong, and he knew now that it couldn’t just be a holocron. He could sense that Naam felt it too… after all these years, he could still resonate with her feelings of the Force. He wondered if she could feel his discomfort, too.

Their footsteps and the gentle hum of the Jedi’s lightsaber were the only sounds filling the otherwise silent temple as they navigated through its narrow hallways. It was much walking before they finally reached what seemed to be the center of the modestly sized temple. It was still dark, however, and he squinted to try to make something out. Even his saber couldn’t illuminate the large, sprawling room.

Naam’s own unease was intertwined so closely and naturally with Min’s that she didn’t know whose feelings were whose. She took her own lightsaber out, shining a brilliant green as she tried her best to light up what Min’s saber could not. Shedua followed, her own green blade illuminating very little, but at least the Jedi had some ground to work with in the large opening now. 

“There must be rooms leading off this one,” Shedua predicted, sharing her thoughts. “That, or… the holocron is in here, somehow,” she tried to be brave, the knot in her gut twisting as they only walked deeper into to structure, and she could only wish they had more visibility. “Our only choice is to keep moving forward, but be careful where you step… temples such as these are often laden with traps. Even Jedi temples are known to be dangerous to venture too deep into, if the information at stake is important enough. I can’t imagine what a Sith temple could hide,” she ended in a whisper, walking ahead of the group just a little and beside her master confidently, as Aiza and Naam took each flank. 

Min seemed uncomfortable with his padawan taking the lead, and so he sped his pace and walked beside her until they stopped. Then, he seemed visibly shaken. “Be still,” he instructed the padawans, “I sense something.”

“Naam. Do you feel that? There’s someone—“

He was cut off as the room was suddenly brighter, not by their sabers, but rather a sharp red lightsaber unsheathing.

A red saber filled the other half of the room with light, dimly illuminating a cloaked figure in the crimson luster. The apparition lifted up a hand slowly, holding a cubic item in its hand. 

Min put an arm in front of the padawans, holding up his own saber. “A Sith,” he hissed. He had never encountered one before… it had to be the source of his unease. He could feel the darkness within the opposing individual, causing him to exhale shakily. 

Naam was poised to fight, he saber held across her frame in typical battle-ready Jedi fashion.

And so the time came again for her to defend another’s life as though it were her very own. Only this time, the stakes were higher; she had padawan to protect. 

“We have numbers on you, Sith. Surrender or die,” she called across the way, her intimidation pushed down by sheer will and confidence. Her confidence, however, was more rocky than usual, as the woman had never before faced a Sith. They had been dead for as long as she could even remember. More disturbing than meeting one was the thought that there was one out in the galaxy right now training more of them. Never was there ever just one Jedi or Sith. 

Shedua stood with her saber in hand, stunned. She still held it up for light, her heart fluttering. She could not fight a Sith, she knew this… she could not  _ fight.  _ Like never before, the padawan was petrified in the face of this shocking evil. 

The Sith held the holocron still, before lowering his hood, yellow eyes and dark brown hair just barely visible in the red glow of his saber. He was a young man, perhaps even young enough to be an apprentice, but nonetheless a great power emanated from him. 

“Were you looking for this? It seems I’ve beaten you to it,” he said, face smug and voice sarcastic. 

Min held up his saber, not allowing himself to be fearful of the Sith. He was outnumbered, and he looked to be not too much older than their padawans. “Hand over the holocron. We won’t let you leave without a fight.”

“Right.” He threw the holocron up into the air, but locked it into place with the Force. A second saber unsheathed in his now free hand, though he remained out of position. “I don’t believe this holocron is worth the lives of your padawans. I can feel how weak they are… how weak both of you Jedi are.” He could sense their unity, but he could sense the weakness for one another. He lifted his left hand, then grabbed Shedua and pinned her to the wall.

“Shedua!” Aiza cried, despite knowing she had no power in this situation. 

Without hesitation, Min launched his first attack, sprinting over and bashing him with an overhead slash. He blocked it easily, expecting the attack, but still staggered from the mere physical exertion of the attack. He still held her up, amused at such a reaction.

“Put her down or I’ll cut off both of your damn hands,” he hissed. 

“Min, be careful,” Shedua called, struggling to peel herself away from the encompassing grip. 

Meanwhile, Naam would not stand to have Min threatened, and skirted the wall, calling to her padawan as she went. “Cover us, Aiza, and look out for Shedua,” she dashed up the wall of the cavern, and flipped, bringing her lightsaber down with great force upon the Sith’s, her own movements reflecting simpler Sith maneuvers. Sharp, dazzling light illuminated the chamber as the weapons clashed, screaming in their violent turmoil. She hoped to break the gridlock and turn the fight in their clear favor. 

The Sith blocked both of their attacks, though he seemed to have little interest in offense. He glanced to the young padawan he had pinned to the wall, then grabbed the holocron from the air, then jumped over the Jedi and stopped at the mouth of the temple, where the two padawan still were. 

“I won’t stay and entertain you four. I wish you all well in explaining to your Council why you don’t have the holocron,” he huffed, then lowered the blonde padawan. He made a swift escape, to which Min would have pursued had he not run over to his padawan first. 

“Shedua, are you alright?” he asked, kneeling beside her place on the ground. Aiza watched, concerned and stepping to be closer to her own master. 

Naam knew better than to chase him when Min turned around and checked on his own padawan. “Little fucking delinquent,” she hissed, then whipped around to march over to her padawan, frustrated. “Min, did you see how young he was?” She expected no answer, simply venting frustration as Shedua scrambled to her feet, pale-faced. 

“I’m… I’m okay. Thank you Aiza, thank you master,” she looked at neither of the two, eyes boring into the carved stone at their feet. She said little more, obviously shell-shocked and struggling to regain her senses. 

The Devaronian crossed her arms and shook her head. “Fuck. The bad feeling was no wonder. Don’t tell me I’m the only one who felt how… how…”

“Powerful he was,” Shedua faintly replied. “Yes, and young too. I have a feeling that that is not the last we will see of that Sith.”

Min stood beside his padawan with a sigh, shaking his head. “He was powerful. I’ve never encountered someone so young with such control of the Force… I assume it’s because he harnessed the dark side of the Force.” 

Aiza looked up to her master, then put her lightsaber away. “I didn’t know the dark side was that powerful,” she said softly. While she would never say it aloud, she wondered why they used the light side if it was clearly weaker. 

The Jedi turned and began to leave the way they came, his saber still lighting the way. “Come. We’ve got to head back and report our encounter. I have a feeling we’re going on an intergalactic wild goose hunt,” he told them, remaining wary as they headed out of the temple. 

  
  


The ride back was significantly more silent than the ride to the holocron. 

The call to the council was solemn, and nobody spoke over one another out of the sheer quiet of all their minds. Shedua, particularly, seemed struck, not outwardly injured or terribly upset, but passively disturbed, inwardly collapsing and crumbling pathetically.

She remained nearly silent, staring dead ahead—either thinking deeply, or thinking about nothing at all. It was impossible to tell. She followed beside her master and to the docking facility where she could peel her mask away and set it with the rest for reuse. 

Naam had a lot on her mind, but still lead the outing diligently, as though unaffected. She walked ahead of the group, herding them aboard the ship on which she and her padawan had arrived, their destination unknown as of yet. “We have no way of tracking Sith or holocron,” she finally determined as they entered the ship. “I say we set a course for the Jedi temple until we can determine our next course of action,” she proposed, mostly to Min. 

When they arrived back at the ship, Min took off his mask and tamed his hair with his fingers, pushing it back again. He nodded once. 

“Right. Somehow, we need to find a way to locate that Sith and his holocron. Without a doubt, he isn’t going to do anything good with it,” he said, sitting down at a table with a sofa surrounding it as their pilot lifted the ship. 

Aiza sat across from him, her own mask coming off. “What  _ is _ he going to do with it, do you think? What kind of knowledge does it even hold?” The possibilities seemed endless, especially with the power emanating from both the Sith and his holocron. 

“I can only guess it is like a Jedi holocron. They can hold ancient texts, lost knowledge, dead techniques… prophecies, even. They have just as much access to the force as we do. It can be anything. But my bet is that the Sith will be gathering holocrons across the galaxy. If he’s taking one, I don’t see why he wouldn’t want to get more, unless he needed specific information contained within  _ that  _ holocron,” she gathered her thoughts, pacing back and forth before the door. “Min, where do you think he’s going?” Perhaps her old partner had a feeling that she did not, or could offer some insight. 

The once-helpful Shedua was sitting, contrite and quiet at the padded cushions offered at the hologram-table of the ship, simply staring down at the pale table as her masters discussed close by. 

The Jedi could sense that his padawan was off-put and still in shock, but he knew she would be fine. Being able to take a few hits or Force chokings was all a part of being a Jedi. He just leaned an arm on the table. 

“That boy has years of experience under his belt as a Sith. The Sith have returned, but they have remained hidden all this time. He’s still an apprentice, I could tell: I could sense his inexperience and… submission, almost. If the legends are true, he is the apprentice to the one and only Sith lord. They are tucked away somewhere on some remote planet or moon, or perhaps in a solitary spacecraft. The chances of finding them through sheer force is highly unlikely,” he responded. “We must find an alternative way, some kind of clue where they could be hiding.” He paused for a moment, then sat back on the cushion. 

“I know a guy. A special kind of scavenger on Jakku. He hoards books and all kinds of artifacts of knowledge, and has excessive knowledge on the Sith. Maybe, just maybe, he might have a lead… it may be our only chance of finding that kid or at least gaining a lead on the location of their hideout.” The man crossed his arms, looking serious as he recalled his last visit to Jakku. 

“Then it’s off to Jakku. I usually don’t like the type who are a little too interested in Sith, but… if it’s all we got, then it is what it is.” She took a step closer and to the wall, thumbing a silver button and sounding a beep from a speaker just above. “Change of plans. Set a course for Jakku, CC,” she requested of her CC-2, who responded in her slow and cadenced, vaguely electronic voice. 

“Of course, master Yero. Our trip should last approximately thirty-five minutes, with twenty minutes to reach hyperspace and to land, given conditions on Jakku are ideal for landing. This time will be updated if they are not. Shall I serve snacks?” Obviously, CC-2 was some sort of relations droid, being polite and courteous unconditionally, and maintaining a gentle, sophisticated Coruscanti accent. 

“No, thank you, CC. Please stay in the cockpit,” the Devaronian tipped her head back, apparently vaguely frustrated by the question. She didn’t have the strength to deal with a relations droid right now. 

“Is… there anywhere on this ship I could clean up? I’m covered in Portaak Amber,” Shedua finally softly spoke up. 

He nodded. “I can’t say he’s the most pleasant, but he’s all we’ve got,” said Min, who sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. He looked to his padawan who broke her silence, then shrugged. “Ask Naam, I’m sure she knows.”

Aiza sat up straight and looked to the woman. “I also need to clean up… I can’t stand this smell,” she said.

Naam nodded, gesturing to the right of the front entrance. “Down there, that’s where you’ll find some medical equipment and things to help you clean up. Now shower on this ship, though,” she leaned against the frame of the ship, just looking at Min now. “Min and I will be out here, feel free to join us when you’re freshened up.” 

Shedua, unlike herself, practically ducked away from the group, walking quickly down the hallway to find something to help her to clean up, and maybe having some time away from the masters… she didn’t want to show her face after that embarrassing failure on her part. As she searched for a towel, she had already begun to disrobe, taking her outer robes off her body and untying her midriff.

The girl followed the other a bit after she left, hoping she didn’t mind. In the room with the equipment and rags, she found the now half-dressed girl and stopped, before simply pretending to ignore her and grabbing a towel for herself, beginning to undress as well. 

Min sighed as he watched his padawan leave. “She’s acting off. Am I supposed to say something, do something… or nothing at all? It seems she’s a bit put off by the encounter with the Sith?” Truthfully, Min didn’t always know how to handle a teenage girl. “In my opinion, I think she’ll get over it.”

Shedua didn’t look up, only spoke. “So. What did you think? Seeing your first Sith… one of the first in decades,” she inquired, not facing the other girl, now only in her short undershirt, more of a bra wrap than anything, and she bent down to peel off her obscenely sticky leg robes. 

“Please, Min… tell me you haven’t just had her  _ get over  _ everything. Please,” she seemed to beg a higher power, clasping her hands together and touching them to her forehead. 

She undressed to her under layers, beginning to wipe herself off with a sigh. She cringed at the stickiness and smell. It stuck to the towel, but it still worked for now as she cleaned up her face first. “It wasn’t what I expected. I thought Sith would be old and butt ugly, but he wasn’t either of those… just scary.” 

The Jedi shrugged. “I think she’s turning out fine, what’s wrong with it?”

The blonde padawan tried her best to wipe down her hair, but she’d need a shower eventually. “Yeah… but scary in the weirdest way. It was terrifying, the… the energy of him. I could never have imagined that the Force could be harnessed in such a just… such a raw and powerful way. Did you feel it too?”

“Min,” she started, dropping her hands. “You’ve got to arrange a few heart to hearts. I know you’re emotionally unavailable sometimes, and that’s fine, but you can’t just not say anything,” she pointed out. “Ask her what’s wrong, offer some advice, talk about your experiences… it is part of teaching, you know,” she offered her own insight not unkindly, but still quite sternly. Unless he wanted his padawan to be as much as a confused hardass as her master, she needed somebody to talk to.

Aiza nodded even though they weren’t facing one another. “It seemed much more powerful than any of the masters at the temple. That’s why I really wonder why… well,” she lowered her voice, “why we can’t use the dark side at all. It’s so… strong. I could feel it.”

He raised his brows. “What? Well… I suppose that can be arranged, but I never know what to say. What  _ do _ I say? I think that she’s strong enough that she can deal with things, don’t you? I don’t want to hold her hand and then have her not be ready to be a knight. She’s outstanding, Naam, really. I have a feeling she’ll be a knight in no time, and I don’t see how a heart-to-heart will help that.”

“I wondered that too… but it seems excessive. We’ve gotten by on the light side well. It takes care of us, and we defend it. The dark side… it consumes. It was choking me, I could feel it… literally and figuratively,” her shoulders slumped. “I think because it’s so excessive that we can’t use it. It’s addicting. It just wasn’t right,” she determined, knowing well the histories of many turned Jedi. Always, it stole them from the light and became their downfall. Like a low-life Underground Coruscanti on death sticks. 

“Just because she’s strong doesn’t mean she wouldn’t benefit from being able to trust you. Trust between a master and padawan is outstandingly important,” she turned her head, studying the floor a moment, knowing firsthand of the importance of such a bond. “Plus, you’re missing a chance to pass on wisdom. Right? You aren’t holding her hand by just asking her simply if she’s alright… or if she even wants to talk,” the master ended more softly, the suggestion gentle. She sighed, however. “But don’t be surprised if she’s weirded out and doesn’t want to, since it would be out of character for you. 

“Yeah. It didn’t feel right at all. It was just plain wrong,” she agreed. “But he was almost entirely all dark. I wonder if it’s possible to have just a little bit of that power without becoming crazy or evil. Not that I would ever,” she reassured, as even the implication of darkness in a young Jedi’s mind was enough for the Council to take action. 

“I guess you’re right.” For most of the conversation, Min didn’t look his old spark in the eye. In fact, he hardly did during the whole mission. “I’ll talk to her tonight, I suppose.”

“I don’t think so… even if it is. I don’t wanna find out,” she determined as she sat, and began trying to wipe her clothes off as well, trying to remove the scaley, honey-like goo from her uniform. “I can’t stop thinking about it, though,” she slumped over slightly, contrary to her earlier, proper, confident behavior. “Just seeing it paralyzed me. Sort of pathetic.”

Naam bounced off the wall, and stepped closer to the knight, setting a palm on his shoulder for his attention. “Thank you, Min. I know you want the best for your padawan,” she looked down at his face, or where it might be if he looked up. “I’m glad you’re still willing to take advice.”

She turned and shook her head. “No, you weren’t pathetic. What else were you supposed to do? I’m sure even one of our masters wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.” She set her towel down with a sigh, giving up. “Besides… it really was scary. I couldn’t do anything, either.” 

Aiza put her robes back on after peeling some more of the stuff off, then turned to leave. “I’m going to go to bed. Goodnight, Shedua.” 

Finally, he looked up at her, meeting her eyes only for a moment, before looking forward again. He sighed. “Right.” He realized he probably wouldn’t listen if it were nearly anyone else. “I’m glad you’re willing to give it.”

“Oh,” she softly spoke. “Well, goodnight, Aiza… I’ll see you on Jakku,” she called after the girl, still working on her clothes. She had nothing else to do, after all. “And it was nice meeting you, by the way,” Shedua sat up, watching Aiza go. 

“You know I always am,” she smiled, stepping back and crossing her arms. “Even when you don’t want my advice. Which was… often, I figure.”

Aiza left with a wave and a smile to go find the extra quarters on the ship, unknowingly taking the only one other than Naam’s. She sat down on the end of the bed, undressing herself again.

“Yes, perhaps. But Master Aldan taught me to always listen to others, even if their advice is sometimes unwarranted.” A slight smirk played on his lips.

Naam smiled, but all comms on board suddenly dinged. “It appears that our destination on Jakku is caught in a violent sandstorm,” CC’s soothing voice resounded through the ship. “It may be between two and eight extra hours that we will be held up outside the atmosphere,” she softly and cheerily informed. “You organic fellows had better get some rest. I’ll wake you when we are nearer to our objective, and I’ll be dimming all lights to stimulate your naturally assigned circadian rhythms. Sleep well, masters,” she finished her short message, and promptly dimmed all lights to 25% power. 

Naam hummed, looking up at the lights, and then shrugged. “Yeah, I’m gonna go change. Care to bunk up, my old friend?” She was already making her way down the hallway.

Shedua, inversely, took her time still cleaning off as much as she could before reluctantly putting back on the relatively de-stickied clothes. There was no longer any goo that would get on other things, but it was still sort of gross, like a thin, uncomfortable gloss. Reluctantly, she searched the small ship for another room to hunker down in after the announcement, coming to realize in her short circle that her padawan friend’s room was all that was left for her to sleep in. 

She raised her knuckles, paused hesitantly, and then knocked softly. 

Min raised a brow. “Bunk up?” He stood from the couch, following behind slowly and curiously. “Well, I should talk to her first, shouldn’t I? Or maybe it can wait…” 

Aiza jumped, not expecting the knock, but calmly stood up and wrapped herself in her cloak. After just a moment, she opened the door, but immediately seemed a bit confused. She tilted her head, raising her brows. 

“Shedua?”

“If you want it to wait. As long as you get in the habit of being a little more open. Whatever I do, you’ll know where I am,” she touched the pad to allow her to step into her room, and then the door slid shut behind her. 

“Hello again,” she politely greeted, then folded her hands in front of herself. “I was wondering if you knew of a place I could sleep, since you’re more familiar with the ship. However, if I’m not mistaken, there are only two bedrooms here, and I think our masters are taking the other.”

Min walked past the two girls, watching them, then sighing. Tomorrow it was. He would speak to her when she was alone. He went just across the hall and entered Naam’s room a few moments after her, standing in the doorway awkwardly before stepping inside. “...She’s not alone. Tomorrow,” he assured. 

Aiza seemed to accept this with a shrug, eyes following Min as he followed her master into her room. “...Alright.” She stepped aside to let the girl in. She let her cloak fall again, before reaching up and undoing her braids, letting her long hair fall down to her waist. She glanced to Shedua. “They’re sharing a room?” 

Naam was stepping out of her outer robes and laying down already, simply setting her clothes at the base of the bed and sitting at the edge. “Well, I’m glad to see they’re getting along swimmingly. Does she have any padawan friends?”

“Yes, it seems like it… why?” She carried her robes instead of wearing them, left in her underclothes, but remaining unconcerned by this in the presence of another padawan. “I’m sure we’re all tired, and… well, a bed’s a bed. Even if my master does snore.”

“Ah, well… not really.” He shrugged. Admittedly, a part of him was frightened that she would form an attachment, and so he remained cold toward her and even — though he would never admit it — subtly isolated her from others her age. Then, after a short silence, Min sat down on the bed and turned to Naam, swallowing thickly.

“Naam, I—“ he began, then looked down to her as he sat beside his former spark. “I want to know what happened in all the years we stopped talking. How… are you?” It seemed that within the walls of a room and alone with her that he allowed himself to open up. 

She smiled welcomingly, her presence ever uncritical. Pulling herself up and back on the bed so she could cross her legs and lean back against the headboard, Naam relaxed herself. "Well. I'm busy as anybody with a padawan is. Lots of training, reconaissance missions, peacekeeping missions, and I'm sure you've had the same. Keeping up with one so full of energy is challenging, but I'd not have it any other way." She spoke with subtle gestures of the hands, which remained mostly resting on either of her elbows. "Before Aiza, I was involved deeply in my studies of the Force on Ashas Ree. I learned a lot then, studying sacred texts, and centering myself there in solitude. Unfortunately, my student is at some level of conflict with the Force, so I haven't been able to share this knowledge yet. What about you, Min, what in the galaxy have you been up to?" 

Min watched her, surpressing the slight  _ feeling _ that overcame him, then sighed. “Just like you. Busy. I’ve been training a padawan, obviously. She’s bright, but could do better. I work with her almost entirely myself, studying, training, the Force, all of it… And so most of my time is taken up by that. We go on a lot of missions, but,” he stopped.  _ It isn’t the same as when me, you, Alek, and Kadau used to work together, _ he wanted to say, but didn’t continue. “But mostly alone.” The room was quiet and only the buzz of the ship filled the silence. “I’m glad to have someone to pass my knowledge on to. It’s given me a purpose.”  _ Because after we drifted apart and Kadau took a new padawan, I had no purpose. _

She nodded, taking in this new information with which a heavy weight came. The implication of his perceived purposelessness was rather crushing for her, and she could only hope she interpreted the words wrong. “Why do you mostly do things alone? I know  _ you’re _ independent, but is your padawan as well?” Even back in their golden days, Min mostly preferred to have some allocated time to himself, and got away as often as he could. She was lucky to have been able to share his solitude with him for some time. Being alone with him now wasn’t nearly the same as simply stepping in with him while he was meditating, or silently just… existing. Being alone together. It was bliss, and she didn’t even know it back then. 

“I believe she has learned to prefer being independent. It’s what she knows.”

Alone together. It was a concept he knew very well, and one he hadn’t experienced in a very long time. Perhaps it could be considered when he was alone with his quiet, genuine little padawan whose breathing he could hear when she sat beside him when he meditated. It reminded him of when Naam would sit beside him while he was meditating, and much to his disdain (at first) set her head in his lap and looked up at him. He was unsure if the memory of it made him rejoice that he could experience it or mourn days and feeling and love long past.

But again, he felt it. They were alone together, and for some reason he noticed only now that she had hardly changed -- appearance wise, at least -- and she still looked at him in the same way as before. It was oddly comforting, although he knew that  _ he _ was the one who pushed her away and insisted that the code was more important than her. He wouldn’t blame her if she hated him.

And yet.

And yet, she still smiled at him for some reason. 

The devaronian smirked and cocked a brow. “Learned to prefer it, hm? Min. Please, tell it like it is,” she shook her head. “I guess I can’t agree with the way everybody teaches.” She began to tuck herself under the covers of the small bed, closest to the wall, still watching her old flame. “What do you mean when you say she could do better? Does she not try?” She scooted down, covering up to her shoulder and leaning on an elbow to intently listen. No tired sighs, no rolling eyes, always listening. She always had. 

“She does, but… she doesn’t catch on to physical training very well. Which is fine, but it worries me, because I want her to hold her own in a battle. But she can’t -- not well, that is. She does occasionally face other padawans, and I can’t say she holds up well. It’s my fault, most definitely, and so I don’t blame her for it.” He finally went to sit beside her on the bed, but didn’t get under the covers yet. He left a respectful distance between them.

“Funny. Aiza excels in hand-to-hand and saber training. She’s extremely athletic, you should see her. I’d love to see what sort of amazing things she could do in a fight, but the only thing is that her connection to the force is… poor. And she’s quite difficult to keep on track with her formal education,” Naam puffed dry laughter. “They seem to be opposites… see where I’m headed with this?”

He paused, then leaned back against the headboard with a sigh. 

“Well, yes, but…” He couldn’t really think of a good argument. It  _ did _ make sense, since the two seemed to get along and could balance one another out. It was similar to when they themselves were young… he crossed his arms. “I think we should focus on this mission for now, and then we can decide what the padawans do in the downtime,” he said. 

Then, he took off his shoes and got under the covers beside Naam, but still sat up.

“Fine with me,” she settled herself more snugly beneath the sheets. “But Min, don’t isolate your padawan. You can’t keep her from it forever,” she reminded, and left  _ it _ to be defined by what Min should know what  _ it _ was. 

“I suppose we should be getting to sleep. I have a feeling we’ll be up the next day or even two, if we actually catch a lead here.”

He opened his mouth to what she said, then closed it as she continued. He cocked a brow, then settled down beside her, finally laying down. “Right. We’ll be to Jakku pretty soon, if my memory serves me right. It isn’t far.” 

Of course, he wasn’t sure he could sleep… as of current, there was  _ a lot _ on his mind. What did she mean by  _ it, _ and even more pressing, the Sith apprentice they had just encountered. All of it kept his eyes open even as the woman settled down.

She rolled over so she didn’t face him—she couldn’t have him figuring out so easily that she might not be able to sleep well—and settled in to the sheets, bidding Min softly goodnight and just… attempting to sleep with everything on her mind. Pretending nothing was wrong. Not daring touch on before,  _ their  _ before, like it might burn her if she did. Truly, it felt like it might. 

  
  
  


After everyone woke up, they set out after the ship had landed. Min insisted they get a good start, as he didn’t want to spend more time on such a planet than they absolutely had to. They landed at Niima outpost, a small junkyard settlement where his friend supposedly was. 

As soon as the door opened, Min had memories flowing back to him. He hadn’t been here for five years, and it was then — the first and last time he visited this place — he met Taaka, a masked man of an unknown species. By his odd movements and six appendages, it was safe to assume he was not human. He had come here with Master Aldan for a very different reason to why they were here now. 

Taaka had a vast knowledge on Jedi history (and subsequently Sith) — he was a hoarder of this knowledge. It was unknown to Min why Taaka remained on such a faraway and hidden nothing-nobody planet, but Kadau told him it was because he was a fugitive of the law. 

“ _ Aren’t we enforcers of that law _ ?” 

“ _ Well, yes, but… he’s my friend. The law and the code aren’t absolute, and sometimes it’s okay to break it. Besides… he’s the only one that can help us find Alek. _ ” 

Oh, Kadau — set on finding his old friend, only to find out that Master Lekkas had left of his own volition. A deserter of the Jedi lifestyle, and a deserter of all of his friends. It pained him to remember the moment his master was informed. In that time, his mind went straight to Naam, who was the next to find out. Min still hasn’t forgiven him. 

Jakku was clear of a sandstorm — for now — and Min lead the way to Taaka’s shack. He put up his hood just out of memory of the sandstorm that struck them the last time he was here, and navigated through the small settlement. They received many odd looks and glares, though no one bothered them. Min approached a small make-shift shack made of junk scraps and knocked on the small door. 

Naam had brought goggles in case of a storm, and tugged her own hood up while wearing them for the sake of cautiousness. Very, very few times in her life had she been to Jakku. 

Most instances pertained to her old master in some way. She preferred not to think about such things right now… not while she didn’t have to. She had not been on the trip to visit Taaka, when Min and Kadau had gone, as she had remained behind to attempt to sense her master’s presence in the galaxy. This had failed quite pathetically, and lead, in part, to her dedication to paving her path to the force clear so that one day, just maybe, she might be able to make herself useful in that way. The other part which inspired her to study on her own was a second abandonment which followed the first quite immediately. 

Shedua squinted to keep particles and harsh sun from her eyes, her layers of robes unhelpful in keeping her cool under not one, but two suns. She pulled her robes over her head eventually on account of unwanted eyes, which examined Aiza critically as well. No doubt, gauging their worth as slaves, this degenerate planet of thieves and outlaws and scrappers and gamblers. It was nearly as bad as what she’d read of more directly Hutt-dominated worlds, such as Tatooine. 

“Who is it that we are seeing again, Master,” Shedua stepped up beside Min, still squinting beneath the shade of her hood.

Aiza remained close to her master, though chatted with Shedua idly as they walked, mostly remarking on the ugly inhabitants. She kept her voice and head low, the  _ looks  _ from the natives giving her the creeps. They had no good thoughts in their mind, that was for sure. 

Min glanced down from where he knocked, awaiting an answer. “Taaka. An old…  _ acquaintance _ of mine,” he replied, before a slit opened on the door. 

_ “Gooba. Taaka sheeha grenga,”  _ came a voice from inside, and Min cocked a brow. 

“It’s Min. Kadau’s padawan,” he responded. The door immediately opened. 

“ _ Ooh, _ Min. A long time, no see, my friend. Please, please, come inside,” said the man, who was an odd-looking fellow who stood a good foot over the Jedi (slouching). The man stepped inside, and gestured for the rest to follow. It was a dinky little shack, but at least spacious enough for them all. Books upon books and scrolls upon scrolls littered the area: the space chaotic yet organized at the same time. “It is with a reason you come here, Taaka would like to know it.” Taaka sat down in a rickety chair, mask and goggles concealing his face. 

“Right. I’m sure you of all people would know that there is a certain… concern about Sith. That they’re returning.”

“Yes, yes. Taaka knew about this long time ago… and nobody listen. Not Kadau, not Min either,” he huffed. 

Min shook his head. “We need to know something about them,” he began, “if you might know where they would be.” 

“Hm… no. Do not know… of course Taaka do not know. Taaka is historian, not psychic.”

The Jedi puffed, expecting that answer. “Alright then. Do you have a lead, at least?” 

The self-proclaimed historian seemed to consider this, then nodded. “Yes, Taaka might have lead.” He stood up from his chair, shuffled through books and throwing several aside, then pulled out a scroll. He looked it over, then sighed contently. “Taaka has something that might help Jedi. Jedi want to know where Sith might be, Taaka has scroll that say where Sith lord hid holocron long time ago.” He handed it to Naam, who just happened to be closest to him. Min looked over her shoulder. 

“What’s on it?” he asked her. Aiza came up beside him, peeking over her other shoulder. 

Naam opened the scroll, rolling it out horizontally and humming, laying it flat on a nearby table and placing a hand on either side. It took several moments for her to decipher, dots and dashed lines peppering the place in all sorts of shapes she was only vaguely familiar with. “It’s a star map… does anybody have a droid who can quickly read this? Not my area,” she shook her head, and Shedua gently fell in beside the woman. 

“It is mine,” she examined the yellowed papyrus, then pushed a couple of boxes and scrolls out of the way to turn the map vertically. From her pocket, she produced a small tool for reading two dimensional star maps, (which were incredibly frustrating, considering the galaxy existed in three dimensions), and began going to work trying to follow the very old, very vague, and very confusing instructions. 

Naam cocked a brow, and looked to Min. “You taught her this?” She sounded understandably disbelieving, since, while Min was a learned man, nobody gave a damn about paper star maps… only the older, more traditional Jedi taught their padawan to read them. Maybe Kadau taught Min, or… maybe the girl had just learned it herself. Min did say that she was bright like that, a scholarly girl. 

Min furrowed his brows at the mere sight of it, then crossed his arms. This sort of thing was nearly impossible to read with the naked eye, and so he was already intent on giving up and taking the scroll to CC or some other droid that could read the map. Then, as his padawan stepped forward, he raised his brows, but didn’t seem too surprised. 

“...No. I didn’t. I believe Master Aldan taught her.” Admittedly, he wasn’t too interested or well-informed on old star maps. He still wouldn’t take back giving Kadau shit for teaching her these types of things rather than training her in applicable Jedi practices. 

It was a one-in-a-million chance that something like this could be applied. 

“How long will it take you, do you think?” he asked his padawan. The map looked more complicated than he had ever seen. 

“Uh… just… give me a couple minutes, Master, I think I got this,” she decided, distant and distracted, dancing the little gadget across the paper and measuring it to determine location, and the unlabeled stars and planets presented, while also  _ feeling  _ it, understanding the directions without thinking about it. If one attempted to use logic to unscramble the ramblings of a Jedi, one could only guess the conclusion they might come to. It was something she simply could do, there was no answer for it to give but the Force. 

Naam simply stepped back and crossed her arms, watching the blonde just do her thing and glancing to Min. “Well, at least we don’t have to walk back to the ship for CC to read it. Who knew it might come in handy someday,” she tapped her bicep as the girl stood straighter, staring down at the paper which she had…  _ hopefully  _ correctly deciphered. The planet on which she  _ supposedly _ landed was dead-on, though any number of mistakes could have been made. She could only rely on her judgement here, however. 

Shedua turned around, resolute, and clasped her hands together. “I think it’s on the planet Ambria… I think. The droid on the ship can check it, if you want,” she released it, allowing it to roll back to its original shape. “It’s gotta be where he’s headed. The encoded message on the scroll also makes a gesture to our current year, and a Sith insurgence. It’s all it says, but I think it’s all we need,” she determined, holding the scroll between Min and Taaka for one of the two to take. 

Min took the scroll, and Taaka gave him a nod. “You take, you find Sith, yes?” 

“Yes. Thank you, Taaka,” he replied and dipped his head. He turned to the others, clutching the scroll. “Ambria. Do you think CC knows where that is?” he asked Naam, having heard of the planet, but not aware it existed or where it may be. 

Aiza looked to Shedua, eyes wide. “Woah, just… woah. Where did you learn to do that?” she asked the other padawan as they turned to walk back to the ship. Min exchanged some more words with Taaka before they departed, and the man watched them leave from his doorway.

“Maybe. It’s a historical site for the Jedi, I know that much, but I’m not certain if it’s marked on our star maps or not. It isn’t populated as far as I know, but it should have some at least old files and the coords,” she predicted, pulling her goggles down from her forehead, waving a polite goodbye to Taaka as they left. Weirdo… whatever, a friend of Min’s was a friend of hers. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it were the location of a holocron given its history. The Force tends to swarm such a place.”

Shedua blushed just a little, and pulled up her hood. “Well, it was kind of half intuition, but I learned to read 2D star maps from Master Aldan. I never thought it would be useful, since they’re not really written anymore, and I’m surprised I didn’t lose my ability to read them… the Force was helpful, though,” she shrugged, not wanting to take all the credit for something that felt so easy. 

Aiza smiled a little, noticing the flushing of the pale padawan’s face. She couldn’t help but think the slightly older girl was cute in her mannerisms and shyness. “I see. Of course it was from Master Aldan, who else would it be from?” 

“Well, then. It looks like we’re heading to Ambria,” said Min, walking beside the other Jedi. 


	3. Nilus and Reign

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young Sith named Nilus has had recurring dreams for many years now. A Jedi, Kadau Aldan’s padawan, realizes that he has been the subject of these boy’s dreams, and discovers that Nilus was the subject of his own.

Reign had plenty of dreams that he remembered. So many that sometimes, he could tell he was in a dream. 

Sometimes. Sometimes the Force entertained him with the past, a scape to explore, a place to center his mind. 

Times like this time felt so real that he had no clue it was even a dream. Too serious, too bizarre to be a fantastical landscape of a faraway planet meant to nurture his mind and cultivate his symbiosis with the energy of the universe. A place with such somber tones that it did not occur to him that he might be dreaming. 

It was dark, it smelled musty, like stone and things that never once lived, and yet energy still was present. The first thing he could recall was stepping forward to touch the wall of runes before him, his hand coming away with red dust on it. This place had gone undisturbed for some time. 

The only thing lighting this wall seemed to be distantly filtered light from the top of the vastly tall chamber he was apparently inside of, only barely lighting the echoing space. His shoes scraped over dusty stone, though left no prints where he stood. To his right was a tomb, or what Reign could only guess might have been a tomb, a large stone casket with no visible lip, as though the lid were simply part of the body of the casket. Meticulous work. It must have been for somebody important, and very old. Reign’s eyes followed the haunting inscriptions on the walls to his right, ones he certainly could not decipher, his body turning until he faced the center of the chamber. 

There was another figure. Stiller than Reign was, and darker, sort of springing forth from the darkness of the corner, just as Reign would have from the figure’s perspective. Sighting the person made his skin prickle with alarm, which soon faded when he realized it was just another guy, likely as confused as he was. 

“Come here often?” May as well resort to a lighthearted joke, he figured. Reign felt no fear here. It was only a tomb, and somebody had to strike up conversation. 

Sprawling, dark dreamscapes plagued him each night as he slept. It had become a fact of life, something definitely  _ not  _ normal and yet he had accepted it as so since it had been a part of him since he was very young. His dreams were vivid, often lucid. In these imaginings, he often saw a figure — a boy, certainly, and as he aged the boy he saw aged as well. He was always the same. Who he was, or even what the purpose of seeing him was was unknown to him. And when he did see him, he could never  _ quite _ make out his features; this boy was always behind a wall, tucked away from him behind a barrier of frosted glass.

This kind of dream, where he was in some kind of temple, or dark place he had never seen before, was nothing special.

That is, until he spotted  _ the boy _ .

Standing before him with some kind of smirk playing on his lips, and a witty remark. Most importantly, though, was that he stood before him with no wall between the two. This time, he questioned if this was a dream at all: he was as pristine and exact as if he were standing before him in real life. The brown-haired boy reached out, seeming to be in awe for a moment, before he lowered his hand. Quickly, he reverted his expression to what it normally was: critical and disparaging. His yellow eyes glowed gently in the dark of the hall, studying the boy before him.

“Who are you?” He demanded, furrowing his thick brows.

Reign’s brow twitched as the boy became more visible, his features defining in the low light. Something about that face…

Huh. Déjà vu. Weird. 

“Who am I? If you must know, I am Reign, nice to meet you,” he gestured towards himself. “The better question is, who are  _ you? _ ” The red-haired boy stepped forward, at ease enough to take his eyes off the taller fellow, turning in a circle to take the whole room in while he walked. “You look kinda familiar. We met?” He turned back to the dark-haired boy, stopping about ten feet away and beginning to dust his hand off, brushing his palms past one another and then wiping the rest on his pant leg, unknowingly leaving behind some physical trace of this dream for him to find when he woke. 

The man studied the boy once again, eyes looking him up and down. “No. No, we haven’t,” he decided. 

He lifted up his chin and straightened himself out. “I am Nilus. I’m assuming you don’t have a clue as to why we’re here.” He looked around. “Are you sleeping? I’m fairly certain this is a dream. And you… don’t seem to be just another dream-person. That, and a dream-person has never responded to me.” Several times before he had attempted to speak to the people he saw, but to no avail. Nilus liked to think of himself as smart, and so quickly he came to a likely conclusion. He could feel the Force strongly emanating off of this man who called himself Reign. 

It was clear to him immediately — this meeting was by will of the Force. For why, and how, he could not say. 

“Come to think of it… yeah, I think I am. Huh,” he looked around the, again, and stepped closer. “I’ve talked to people in dreams before, but never like… this. I can tell you’re alive, you’re real…” He could feel it. All around them, both of them, this buzzing energy. The living Force, active and excited by something. Often he felt this way in dreams, but never this connection to another. 

“A shame I don’t know what we’re doing here, where this is…” he walked closer to the wall, looking up at the engravings. “Can you read these, Nilus?”

Slowly, he blinked, but couldn’t make out the engravings on the wall. “I can’t.” He walked a little closer as well. “I’m guessing you can’t either.” 

After a pause, he looked down at the boy again. “It’s the will of the Force,” he told him. “That much is clear. Why or how is not clear yet.” In his dream-like state, he could not reason as well. He ran a hand over the wall and its engravings, finding that he could feel it just fine. 

“This… is some kind of temple. It vaguely resembles a Sith temple, though I can’t tell. Now, this may be an odd request, but…” He turned the the boy, looking as serious as ever, “Can I touch you?”

He raised his brow, and then extended a hand easily, trusting the strange force-sensitive boy. Sith, yes, maybe… it would explain the lack of familiarity. “Go ahead. I wonder if we’ll even be able to…” He offered a flat palm, upturned and welcoming. He half expected contact, half for the other’s hand to simply pass through his own. This had never happened before, so Reign wasn’t certain what to expect. 

Nilus slowly raised a hand up to touch Reign’s, his expression focused and expectant. Their palms finally met, and unlike it would in a dream, they touched; Nilus’s cold palm against Reign’s warm one. Immediately, he felt an unignorable jolt go up and down his spine, and he pulled his hand away with a slight gasp. 

In that moment, he watched as Reign disappeared, then saw as his surroundings fell apart. “No,  _ no, wait,”  _ he called after the fading boy, but it was already too late. His voice echoed into an endless, answerless void, before he jolted awake, sitting up with a cold sweat on his temple. In his waking moments he could remember each and every detail, but struggled to keep hold of those details as they slipped away, fading into obscurity. Tucked away by his mind who considered such memories obsolete. 

Of course, it could not make him forget  _ that touch _ . He looked down at his palm and swallowed thickly. It was most out of character for him to be so disgruntled, and he attempted to settle himself to spare himself from his master feeling the shift in energy. That is, if the Sith lord hadn’t already detected it. 

The young apprentice pushed back his hair with a sigh, finding it was sticky from sweat. He leaned back on an elbow, before settling back down, although he knew he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep. 

  
  
  


Reign woke with the same jolt, his heart pounding in his throat. “Fuck,” he breathed, rolling out of his bed and standing right away to regain himself. He had been sweating, and felt like he got no sleep at all, as it was with most nights he dreamt in such a way. 

Obviously this was different. Nothing in the world felt like  _ that _ did. It was like being hit with electricity. His body both felt numb and hypersensitive at once, the skin of the arm Nilus had touched rejecting his sleeve with great discomfort. 

It was thrilling, terrifying, exciting, new. Was it real? What if it was? 

This needed to go to Master Kadau. The padawan stumbled out of his sliding door and down the hall to waltz right on in on his master, who was more than likely deeply sleeping, and shook his shoulder even as he, himself was still waking, barely even having processed the dream before making the impulsive decision to let his master know. 

The Jedi master was indeed asleep, started awake by his padawan who shook his shoulder. He seemed alert immediately, turning onto his side and facing Reign. He seemed to calm a little when he saw his face, then rubbed his eyes tiredly. 

“What’s going on? What couldn’t wait until I woke up by myself?” He seemed a little bitter about being woken up, but sat up to listen anyway. 

“It… felt important. I’m sorry master, you can go back to sleep if you want, but… I had another dream. A lot more serious than last time. I wouldn’t wake you up… again… for something that wasn’t serious, I promise. I wanted to tell you now so I didn’t forget anything,” he sounded urgent, sitting at the side of the bed and sulking halfway as he spoke to his resting master. 

He sighed. The dreams had become less common, and as Reign got older, he had mostly stopped telling him about them altogether. However, he learned that his padawan settled down after talking about his dream a bit. The man leaned against the headboard to listen. 

“Go on, then. Tell me what happened,” he said calmly with a slight nod. 

“Okay… the first thing I remember was that I was in a temple this time… a tomb. The writing on the walls was unreadable… Sith, I think. It looked old as dirt. It probably was,” he looked down at his pants, trying to focus as he recalled the story, and paused. “I… I wiped my hand on my robes. Look, master,” he pulled on his robe to flatten it out, touching the muted green fabric, now marked with red dust. “It… was I there?”

The Jedi looked over the robes, then furrowed his brows in disbelief. “What? It couldn’t be from that,” he said with a shake of his head. He reached out and picked up some of the residue on his finger, then looked back up to his padawan. “Can’t be…” 

Kadau had heard of this phenomenon before. Force visions that typically happened while one was dreaming. Now that he was fully awake, he noticed a shift in Reign’s energy, and it was vaguely familiar. He first thought of  _ Alek _ , but he didn’t know why. His padawan had always been rather closely linked to the Force — more than Min at that age and more than himself. Then, it was possible… but still unlikely. 

“It’s probably nothing. You probably got it somewhere else,” he dismissed, but he was already internally worried. Undoubtedly, Kadau would go and see Master Mihos about this, who could surely shed some much more educated wisdom on this situation. 

“M-Maybe… but that isn’t all. I was looking around, and I found a guy. But I could see him, talk to him… he was real. His name was Niles. No, Nilus. I told him my name. He was a person there with me, I could feel it… can something like that even happen? It can, it must be able to happen, because it did happen,” he insisted urgently. “I think he was force-sensitive,” he elaborated upon the next part of the dream. 

He cocked a brow. “How do you know he was real? Not just some really vivid dream?” He leaned back against the headboard again. “If he was Force-sensitive, it was likely just some kind of… projection. You’re imagining things. It’s just another one of your dreams, isn’t it?” He had already heard the  _ I swear it was real  _ and the  _ it couldn’t have been a dream _ before, and so naturally he was unconvinced. 

“Master, he touched me. That’s never happened before, and how it felt… it was like lightning. It was terrifying, and I could feel the most… the most crazy thing. It might have been a disturbance, but it was only between us. It felt powerful, master, like I had tapped into something. That’s what made me want to tell you, master,” he continued to insist, pleading desperately for any kind of explanation or help. 

He put a hand on his chin, pondering this. “Right. Do you know who he is? Like… more than just his name?” Tapped into something? None of this sounded particularly good, but again it was nothing more than a dream. Kadau ran his fingers through his beard idly, thoughtfully. “I believe it was merely a disturbance. Perhaps it was the will of the Force, and it was telling you something. It’s impossible to meet someone real in a dream… especially someone you haven’t met.”

“I only knew his name, and how he looks. He has dark hair, and is tall, pale, but he’s some species that has these orange eyes. I know he wasn’t just… just a dream. He was there,” he insisted weakly, though was now much less urgent. Maybe he was wrong after all. Kadau knew more than him, maybe his brain was just rationalizing for a disturbance somewhere in the galaxy. “What kind of disturbance do you think it was? Did you feel anything?”

He shook his head. “I was sleeping. I can’t really answer all of these questions, I’m sorry, Reign.” The Jedi pat the padawan’s shoulder. Some of them… he has a suspicion as to what all of this could be, but he would consult with his own master first before saying anything. 

Kadau took his hand off of Reign’s shoulder. “You still look tired. You should go back to sleep. Maybe your friend is still waiting for you to come back,” he joked. 

He laughed dryly, then stood. “Not funny, master. Maybe I can ask him more questions if he is. Goodnight, I guess. I’ll see you in the morning,” he wandered to the doorway, then turned back. “Sorry for waking you up,” he whispered, and the door hissed open, and then shut between them. 

Kadau sat by himself to consider what had just happened. It seemed Reign was having another bout of dreams, but this one certainly seemed different. It worried him enough that he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, and so he put on his robes and went to visit his own previous master. 

The Jedi looked where Mihos could almost always be found: in his study. It was less of a study and rather reminiscent of a bedroom mixed with a desk with papers upon papers — the high-ranking Jedi was on the council, one of the most important members on it, and so managed many, many things. Aldan slowly pushed open the door, hoping to find the man — alone — so he could talk. 

Mihos, of course, was awake. There was far too much to be done not to be working like a horse as he always did. His room was a mess, and was quite dirty, though he knew where everything was, and didn’t want to ruin this, so just… never cleaned up. Few but his students knew of this tendency, as nobody would dare just waltz into a Jedi Master’s room. He looked up from the holopad at his desk, taking his hand down from the light keyboard. “My student. Something concerns you,” he didn’t stand just yet, petting a hand through his silvered hair. “It’s fantastic to see you. Why are you worried?”

Of course. His old master probably sensed him approaching the minute he left his room. Kadau took a seat, putting his hands in his lap. “It’s about Reign. He’s… dreaming again.” A small disturbance could be felt in the typically calm and composed Jedi. “Oh, and… it’s good to see you too, old man.” He didn’t really visit as much as he should… the guy had a good amount of time left, but undoubtedly he could sense the man wasn’t as young as he used to be thirty years ago. 

“Oh, dreams again,” Mihos reached out for his (extremely sleek, stylish, and dark) cane, set it on the floor before him, rested both hands at the top of it, and leaned forward with great interest, his chin stacked atop that. “Poor boy, these things have always plagued him. Once does not choose what the Force bestows upon oneself, unfortunately for Reign. Please, describe the problem this time,” he watched with patient hazel eyes, holding no prejudices and ready to accept a new and fresh problem. 

He pushed back his dark (also graying) hair and sighed, seeming concerned but at least calm. “This time he claims to have met someone. A boy named… Nilus? He says that he was in a temple, and there was some residue on his pants.” He held up his stained fingers. “From the temple. It seems… real, almost, but tell me, Master, that it simply  _ cannot _ be.” The Force was a mysterious and perplexing thing, but it couldn’t have possibly transported him to some Sith temple. “But… I could feel it. A disturbance. If I recall, it reminded me of when Alek… you know. Before he left. And that is why it was so urgent for me to visit, I suppose.”

“I understand your concern now, that much is certain,” the master tapped a finger against the hand beneath it. “Many things are possible under the Force, my old student, I would not shut down such a possibility so quickly. In fact, some Jedi are known to be able to physically be one place, and erect a Force presence in another, which can interact with the environment in real time. This usually takes many decades to master, or even use at all, but I have always suspected this potential for the boy,” he slowly explained, seeming thoughtful. “I do not like this disturbance, however.”

The old man shut his eyes as he spoke, as though reciting a song that he enjoyed. “What you have told me is that this boy has met another in his dream. This could very well be a premonition, or a memory from early childhood which the Force has granted him access to.” 

The master opened his eyes again to strike a very grim look, still speaking slowly, but now, his tone rose darkly, a warning. “But if we accept that he truly was out somewhere in the galaxy for some time, the implications are that much more dangerous. That means that this is another Force-user of unknown allegiances also can use this ability. We are training no padawan, youngling, or Knight now named Nilus.”

“Was there once? Will there be? Maybe he’s seeing someone from the past? I still believe that it was likely just his imagination, but he claims that he touched him and felt he had tapped into something.” He watched his master with pinched brows. 

“That is merely support for my theory, though that does not mean I am right. No, not nearly. The Force is so enigmatic, I cannot pretend to know all of its facets. I’ll do this for you: I will dig into records for a Nilus, and I will recover what I can. If I find nothing, then we must be open to the possibilities of a prophecy, or a more unnerving alternative. For now, do nothing. Find out more from Reign, if you wish, but do not encourage or discourage anything,” he determined, and yawned. It was quite early, but his work was not nearly done. No, it seemed to have just begun now. 

He nodded. “Yes, Master. Thank you… I’m glad you can keep a level head in these situations.” He stood, but didn’t leave yet. The man, always unable to bear his master’s rather unconventional way of organizing things (to put it lightly), began picking up some things off the floor. 

(But not papers. Never. Mihos would kill him. For whatever reason, Mihos insists they’re where they are for a reason).

“How have you been, old man? I imagine you’ve been quite busy lately, what with talk of Sith and Sith holocrons.” 

The master laughed, simply allowing his former padawan to clean up after him. “You’d not believe it. Oh, I’ve been between here and my seat on the council nonstop for two weeks now, hardly a break to eat or rest. I nearly forgot what it was like to talk about other things. All the other council members got to visit planets, but such is my life. I’ve done enough complaining now, how are  _ you _ , my dear friend?”

“Ah, well, I’ve been busy just like you. Though Reign and I are quite restless, no mission in over a month. I’m jealous of Min and Naam, on some great mission now. When they return to the temple, I might join them. I’m not sure if I trust those two hooligans with the girls… especially regarding a Sith.” He straightened out the chair he sat in.

“Time will tell if they are the right ones to bring us results,” Mihos decided. “They did find the holocron, which is just what we asked, and encountered a sith in the process, bringing us a rough description, but nothing defining. I’d say their progress is fair thus far, and they are in pursuit currently. I can’t say I’d argue with a little supervision, however,” He picked his head up to scratch the short beard that lined his jaw. 

“Ah, Master, I’d really love it if you could join us. Of course, I understand your duties lie with the council, but wouldn’t it be nice… Maybe you’ll meet another handsome prince,” he joked, smiling slightly but almost sadly. It was hard to imagine that those days were long gone. Truly, he missed Aloïs. 

Mihos sighed wistfully. “Oh, you must know that I could never. I may still have my looks, but there is no replacing such a creature. You know, perhaps I may be able to work something out. I’ve been doing nearly everything for the council, surely they must be  _ nearly _ finished with their emergency recon missions by now.”

He shrugged. “Well, then let me know. I’m sure they’ll love having grandpa along,” he laughed, though was unsure if he wanted Mihos on this mission. He wasn’t the same warrior he used to be, now older and slower and needing the assistance of a cane. 

“I’ll certainly alert you via hologram… or perhaps I’ll just meet you all at the landing pad unannounced. Either way,” he smiled, “It has been ages since I’ve had a proper mission. Since before I trained you that I dealt with Sith activity. Perhaps this has something to do with what happened so many years ago,” he ventured. “It remains to be seen.”

  
  
  


Nilus was taking a break by himself from sparring with his master when his surroundings began graying out, then fading away completely. He was sitting, sweating with his lightsaber beside him and wiping his brow. It had happened before — he called them waking dreams — and yet it was quite sudden and typically didn’t happen at such times. It was never of his own volition, and was quite uncommon. The moment he found himself in this dream void, he stood, alarmed by the sudden change in atmosphere. Then, he felt it.  _ It _ . 

It was Reign’s presence. The feeling of their touch he thought about again and again and was unable to shake. He almost desired it… and his master certainly noticed his mind was clouded by frivolous thoughts, seeming to find it hard to forgive him for allowing himself to be knocked down in a spar due to these thoughts. 

“Reign,” he called out softly, looking around for the source of this presence.

Reign’s voice seemed right now to be a distant echo. “N-Nilus,” he recognised, surprised, but pleasantly so. “I-I can’t see you, I can’t see anything,” The echo of his voice became more clear as he spoke, though their environment was still obscure, dark, unexplored. The force hummed around Reign, buzzing like a swarm of bees, making his hair stand on end, and his skin to prickle into goosebumps. 

“I can hear you,” he reassured. His environment remained cloudy and dream-like, before he blinked slowly, opening his eyes to see Reign before him. He paused, then let out a short sigh of relief. His yellow eyes widened. 

“Reign,” he repeated, exasperated. 

His blue eyes were wide, and he seemed to be desperately searching when he came into view. After a blink or two, though, Nilus himself came into focus and the boy breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh,” he smiled, scratching the back of his head bashfully. “I wasn’t sleeping. Were you?”

Nilus paused, then wiped the fascinated expression off of his face, feeling it get hot. “No, I wasn’t. I… didn’t expect to see you so suddenly.” He swallowed thickly, looking back down at the boy. 

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he admitted, deciding to say what he was unable to say to his master, “Ever since our meeting. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that touch. What it was, what it could have been,” he explained in a voice far softer than he typically used. 

“I feel the same way. I can’t stop trying to figure out what this is, what the Force wants with us… I know you’re real.” He told the last part to himself, mostly. He had been thinking about what to say to Nilus if he saw him again, but now that it was happening, his heart was racing, and his mind was gone from him. “All I know for sure is that you and me… the Force between us, somehow… it’s powerful. You feel the same way,” he predicted inexplicably. 

“Yes. Yes, I feel it. It wants us to talk like this… I’m not sure what it wants, but I think we will eventually figure it out.” Nilus held up his hand again, looking Reign in the eye. “Do you think we should…” His brows twitched, perhaps nervously, awaiting Reign’s response. It was the touch he craved again, and he intended to attain it, hoping to feel the same sensation. 

Reign reached a hand out slightly, then drew it back. “Should we? It might just end this connection, like last time,” he resisted, standing where he was. “I don’t know what it wants, or if it wants at all… I think we might be meant to make what we will of it. Maybe.”

He lowered his hand slowly. “You’re right… I still wish to speak with you.” The boy sighed, then looked around again. It was odd, how he now felt fully awake. He could even more clearly see Reign’s face, as if he were here. 

“I don’t know. I just know it’s the Force. It’s bonding us. It’s… always been this way. I’ve seen you before in my dreams.” 

“I think I might have seen you too. You look so familiar, it’s driving me insane. I just don’t know from where, but it must be my dreams.” Reign settled down cross-legged on the floor a few feet from Nilus. “I hoped I’d see you again, but I didn’t think it’d be so soon.”

Nilus sat down on his knees before Reign, hands in his lap. He observed the other man carefully. “I didn’t think it would either. I wonder why it’s like this so suddenly… before, you would never answer me, I could never see your face like this. And now…” he shrugged slightly, “Well, it’s like you’re right in front of me.  _ Are you _ ?”

“Maybe. I don’t really know where we are. I don’t know if we’re in a real place right now. Last time, I think we were in a real place. Somewhere out there, where neither of us should have been able to be. Did you ever have dreams like that? Where you would go somewhere you’d never been, or seen, or even heard of?” Reign leaned forward, hoping to have just a soul in the galaxy he could relate to.

He nodded. “Yes, a few times,” he confirmed. “I’ve been told my dreams are possibly prophetic… I’m not sure if it’s true, but I know that this is definitely real… you are real.” His master had told him his dreams certainly were meaningful, though he was unsure on  _ how _ meaningful. It seemed like now, however, that he was starting to believe her. 

“I’ve been told my dreams are just dreams, but I don’t buy it for a second. I don’t know if they’re prophetic, but they are not just dreams. I’m just… surprised I’m not the only one who does this. Two of a kind, you and me… I think so, at least,” he smiled. “A relief. I thought I was always going to be alone,” he shrugged a shoulder like it was no big deal, though the thought did bother him. 

“We’re very alike, then,” he said with a nod. Nilus was typically much more cold and reserved, but it was hard for him to be to the only person he could relate to in the galaxy. “I thought I was alone too. No one else had dreams or thoughts like me. But you do… I wonder what’s going on here.” 

He shrugged again, this time with more commitment, and a grin he couldn’t hide. “Me too, but I like it.” Reign tapped his calf excitedly while he discussed with Nilus. “What about nightmares as a kid? Did you get those? Or day dreams?” He leaned forward, resting on his palms with his legs still crossed, resembling puppy.

He nodded. “Yes. Yes,” he confirmed. “Did you ever swear they were real? They always seemed so real to me,” he said, recalling his past dreams. “When I wake up, the real world feels like a dream.” Nilus sat up straight, as if he were meditating. 

“Yeah… it always did! Every time I said anything to anybody, they told me to just not worry about it, or that it was a premonition. I think the Force was teaching me things. It  _ was _ real,” he insisted, sitting back and trying to regain himself. “Nobody ever listened to me.”

“Not to me either. But… you know exactly what I’m talking about. Maybe that’s why the Force is pitting us together… we’re so alike.” Despite the fact Nilus knew close to nothing about Reign, he still felt he had known him for ages. “Where are you right now? I’m on a ship, near the Anoat system.” 

“I’m on Coruscant,” he picked his knees up, his calves still crossed, and hugged them to his chest. “I’ve never been to the Anoat system. What’s it like over there?” Cocking his head, he watched his newfound friend closely, his attention complete and enraptured.

“Coruscant,” he repeated back. “Of course. A lot of people are from Coruscant… In this sector, there’s nearly nothing. It isn’t my home,” he told the boy. He leaned on a hand, watching with interest. “You’re quite far away… but at least I know how far.”

“Yeah, I guess I don’t know your exact location or anything, but yeah. Same. Where is your home?” He frowned, knowing that the question could be serious to some people, and half wondering if the other boy wasn’t on his home for some unfortunate reasoning, as many were.

“My home…? Well… the ship I am on, I suppose. I don’t hail from any one planet,” he said. Nilus didn’t exactly think about what was home or really even care, but he realized it was something he had never thought about. After a pause, he noticed that his surroundings began returning, and that Reign was becoming dimmer. 

“Wait,” he called out, not expecting the sudden disappearance. It was unfair — why was their time limited? Nilus furrowed his brows, then quickly tore off a piece of his robe. He held it out to Reign. 

“Take it,” he told him, “It’s proof I’m real.” 

Reign took hold of the piece, but intentionally touched their fingers as he took it. It wasn’t even a decision, but a need. There was nothing he needed more in that second than the chance to feel that power again, before it slipped through his fingers. 

Nilus bit his lip at a — slightly less intense but still present — jolt as they touched again, letting their hands linger and even intertwine in their last moments. “I hope to see you in my dreams tonight,” he called to the boy, before their hands slipped out of one another’s and they were separated by lightyears again. 

The apprentice stood alone in his room again, then lowered his hand. It was so unfair! He felt only disdain for the Force that separated him from that boy. 

Still. He supposed he should go to his master about this. She would know better than him, undoubtedly. Nilus put his lightsaber back onto his belt and returned to the control room where his master typically could be found, entering quietly. The woman likely still sensed him regardless, as well as his troubled mind. 

“Master,” he called. 

His master sat in her seat facing the glass, her gray hair spilling over her shoulders as she stared into the dark of space. She  _ was  _ meditating, before she sensed a disturbance in her padawan. A most troublesome, annoying one. 

“You’re dreaming again,” she accused simply, and without turning around. The Sith lord raised an effectively clawed hand, the nails yellowed, thick, and cracked, and touched her liver spotted chin. “About what,” she demanded. Something in her gut was twisting, writhing at the presence of something vile, weak. The light side was more present here than she desired, and she could only imagine that the boy had something to do with it. 

She must snuff this trend before it became a problem. 

“Yes. I had a waking dream, and I saw him — again — and, and… Well, that’s all.” He stepped closer to be beside her, looking down at his smaller, frail master. He looked serious, though he was not as cold as his face and stature were. “It was virtually the same as last time. Master, I can feel something in him… he is powerful. And when we touch, I feel that power. He feels it too… and it seems that together, we are immensely more powerful than we are alone. I believe that is what the Force is trying to tell us.” 

“And who is this boy,” she requested impatiently. “A neutral? A Jedi?” She must find out what she could. Perhaps she could have two apprentices. 

Or perhaps she could fuel her student’s suffering, allow him greater power. It wasn’t time to end this yet, but she must be informed, she must monitor… it was her responsibility to culture this boy’s power, inflame it, and she would use any means necessary to further their cause. The training of a young sith was a delicate, careful process, that not every force sensitive entity could even survive the half of. 

“I… don’t know.” He didn’t tell her where he was from… he could sense ill intentions. 

And perhaps it was what she was supposed to have — still. 

“He is Force-sensitive, but I have no evidence that he’s a Jedi. No, we’re far too alike for that.” Of course, deep within himself, he knew it was a possibility and likely true. Coruscant was the location of the Jedi temple, and yet he still would prefer not to believe it. 

She hummed. “Alike.” Laughter shook her shoulders, raspy and condescending. Alike. It sounded like her student was forming an attachment already. “Well. Let me know more as time progresses,” she humored him. “He may be of use to our cause. There is always a place for another powerful sith among us,” she smiled, shutting her bloodshot yellow eyes as she considered her nefarious options. 

“But, my student. Remember your place, and remember your training. I know you will not fail me for any reason. Your power grows with me, and with your progression. You have come so far,” she practically hissed. 

He frowned when she laughed at him, but did not argue. It was normal for her not to understand… no one could, except for Reign. 

“Master, you would train him if he happened to join us? Truly?” Of course, he figured it wouldn’t be too hard to seduce him with the dark side. It was a very enticing idea, even for the most proud and pious of Jedi. 

"If he is powerful enough to be trained. Or if he exists at all. I've still not been convinced he is real," she voiced her concern, turning finally in her chair to face her student. 

She watched him, still as death, and even more frightening. "Give me proof that he is, and I will consider training him." Her voice dropped to a sick, pneumatic growl. "That is your task."

He paused to consider this, then dipped his head. “Yes, master. I can do that.” Nilus looked out into empty space with his master, wondering if Coruscant was one of those shining stars. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I realize, again, the clunkiness and poor pacing. This is an unedited version of an ongoing Google Docs roleplay. As of posting, it has 75k words and 11 chapters.


	4. Alek and Aaru

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaru struggles with his training as a Jedi. Alek is challenged with training a new padawan that has not had any previous training. He thinks of Naam.

Aaru was not expecting Jedi training to be so…

Well, he wasn’t sure what he  _ did  _ expect to begin with, but he didn’t expect to be here, being sprayed in the face by sea foam every so often as the breeze blew his hair harshly in one direction, flattening it against one side of his head. The boy was just sitting here, cross-legged, doing absolutely nothing for no reason at all.

Apparently this was ideal for Alek, who was fucking floating. Who does that?

He fidgeted, his eyes closed, as he became increasingly frustrated with his situation, and impatient that he was just wasting time getting covered in sand after his planet was ravaged by the atrocities of the Sith. He said nothing yet, but agitation was welling up in him quite rapidly. 

Alek sat peacefully, though with his eyes closed, he observed the restlessness of the boy beside him, who clearly didn’t understand the point of this. He could hear the discontent and worry in his mind, though was surprised that there wasn’t a hint of fear or anger within him. 

The former Jedi opened an eye and looked to the boy beside him, then smiled slightly. 

“Practice patience, my padawan. I sense your unease. Tell me why you feel this way,” he finally spoke, opening his other eye and looking down at the boy beside him. 

“I… I’m wasting time. We’re wasting time doing this, I want to start my training, not… sit on the beach and sleep sitting up, or whatever it is we’re doing. I don’t even know what you mean when you tell me to center myself, I can’t do it! Especially not just sitting here like this,” he finally, in a short, controlled manner, vented his frustrations. “I want to  _ train _ .”

“Hm,” he responded, unsure where to start. “Well. Perhaps you should trust your master more, don’t you think?” Alek looked back out at the sea. “This is relevant for your training. We cannot move on until you can center yourself. First, you must let go of these thoughts of urgency and your past. To use the Force, you must first feel it coursing through you and the world around you. Close your eyes and try again, but this time let go of those thoughts. Be in the now.”

“Let go of thoughts of urgency,” he repeated disbelievingly. “After my planet was massacred? I’m sorry master, but this is kind of an urgent situation. You did hear what happened before I got here, didn’t you?” Over the last couple of days, Aaru had questioned everything as he regained his strength, and he still did. 

“Yes.” He closed his eyes calmly. “Trust your master. That is your first step… heed my words and my training, and we’ll get to the rest of the training soon enough.” Alek slowed his breathing again. 

“A Jedi is patient and calm. Even when under pressure or in danger.”

“Yes, I’m sure they are, and I am calm! I’m holding it together pretty well, at least I thought. But Jedi surely aren’t stupid, which it would be to hold off the necessary training to defend myself and avenge my home’s destruction,” the student retorted, trying his best not to be rude to his master, though Alek was making it quite difficult. 

He didn’t move, instead still peacefully remaining still. “This  _ is _ your necessary training, padawan. There is no moving on until you master the basics.” Alek didn’t seem convinced or even consider the boy’s suggestions. “Being a Jedi isn’t about revenge. The Force has guided you here, to me, for a reason — and the Force isn’t vengeful. It wishes to bring balance to the universe.” 

“Why is it balanced for people to die and the murderer isn’t brought to justice?” He stood quickly now, losing his patience rapidly. “I want to bring balance master, that’s the point. The Force and I are in agreement, so why can’t we just start?”

“We have started. This is the beginning. The Force will never bend to someone who is impatient and dwelling on their past.” One day, he could teach him to channel his anger and vengefulness — but not yet. That was a dangerous endeavor. One could learn to harness the dark side, but it was hard to keep it under control. It was important he learned to control himself first. 

“In that case, I don’t think sitting around getting salt in my eyes is gonna help. I don’t know how you  _ find your center _ or whatever just sitting like that, all I am is bored,” he walked a couple paces up the beach, arms crossed, and turned around. “And the waves are annoying,” he added for good measure.

He didn’t look back or follow. “Well, then, it may be wise to find out how to get your ship to run. Perhaps on another desolate planet, another defected Jedi will help you.” 

“Oh, come on, Alek,” he groaned. “It’s not like I want to leave,” he sighed, then brought his hand up to rub his temples. “I’m probably not one to talk about teaching methods or anything, but I seriously can’t concentrate over here, and that’s not helpful because I can’t freaking meditate to begin with. Can we go somewhere else,” he began to soften back up. 

He sighed and after a pause, lowered himself from his place in the air, The man nodded once, then walked past his apprentice. “We’ll try again tomorrow. And that’s  _ Master Alek _ to you,” he corrected, then looked back. “Just kidding. But if we were at the Temple, you’d surely get weird looks.” The man put up his hood and continued to walk back to his small camp.

The hint of a smile graced his lips, and he followed his master. “Thanks,” he softly replied, and fell in just beside Alek. “You had padawans before me, then, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” he replied after a short silence. He seemed to hesitate. “I did. Just one. She was a lot like you in some ways.” Alek walked a slow pace, in no hurry to get anywhere. His facial expression seemed to be just a little less friendly when former padawan were brought up. 

“Is she a Jedi now, then?” Aaru didn’t relent at the hints of discomfort. “What was her name?” As always, he had many questions.

“I… don’t know if she is a Jedi now. I believe she is by now. Her name was Naam.” Alek knew that his padawan was nearly ready by the time he left, but he still was unsure if she passed the trials. He hoped so. It was hard not to miss her, especially when he had the chance to talk about it with someone. 

“Oh… so you left before you were done with her training,” Aaru gathered, furrowing his brow as he pieced this together. Why would he do that, what was so compelling that a Jedi would leave his student?

So what did that mean for Aaru?

“Uh… yes,” he responded. “I left a lot behind. But she is strong. I know that she certainly is doing fine without me.” Alek sighed. “I wouldn’t blame her if she is angry at me, however. But each planet will continue spinning.” 

“How do you know she’s doing fine? I feel like that’s something you can’t be sure of,” Aaru pushed, his green eyes alight with curiosity.

“Maybe not. But my partner, Kadau Aldan, I certainly am sure of. I am sure that he finished her training. But even if she isn’t fine… then I suppose the Force wills it.” He said the last part with deep regret, but his life here alone with nothing but the Force taught him to trust it. 

Aaru himself was feeling a bit squeamish now. He couldn’t bring himself to ask why his master left. Not so early. It didn’t stop him asking other questions, though. “So Jedi work in partners?”

“Yes, mainly. It isn’t uncommon for Jedi to work alone, though, but many take on a padawan soon after they become knights, such as in my case.” He could sense Aaru was a bit nervous about Alek leaving his previous padawan, which… was understandable. Perhaps he deserved it. 

“How old were you when you first got Naam?” It sort of piqued his curiosity: how old was his new master in general? He didn’t look too old, but obviously wasn’t young. He was like, a prime sexy dad age.

“I was twenty-five. That’s when I passed my trials. She was my padawan for a little over ten years before I left,” he shrugged. Damn, he was old. Surely he didn’t look it. Alek touched his scruffy chin. Well, he wasn’t the young, clean-shaven knight he used to be. 

“How old are you now, then? Forty?” Man, that  _ was  _ pretty old, but again. Prime sexy dad age. Why was he thinking about this again?

“Hey! I don’t look forty, do I? Alright, maybe I do… I’m forty-one.” He supposed that with age comes wisdom, but he couldn’t help but not yet be used to being old. Or… old compared to this kid. “How old are  _ you _ ?” He couldn’t have been older than his early twenties, if that. 

“Twenty. Crazy, I’m half your age. You could be my dad,” he observed simply, leaving the statement very open-ended.

“And? I am your master, after all. The older the better, right?” he said as they walked up the hill to his camp, being greeted by Aaru’s droid and a few critters that liked to stay with him. 

The droid chittered and kicked out its stand, carting a little closer to the two to greet them. 

“Hey, R-4. Getting into trouble?” He patted its dome of a head and it whirred, commenting about the sand all over its master’s outfit. “Oh, shut it, bolts. You’re always covered in scuff marks.”

The droid beeped, pointing out the fact it had no hands and could not clean itself. That was its human’s job. Maybe Aaru was just bad at cleaning. “Well, maybe I am, but I think it’s in your best interest to stay on my good side.”

R-4 booped in a quite rude way, and followed its master into the tent of Alek’s home. 

Alek puffed and watched the two retreat into the tent, staying outside for a bit. He greeted his green fox friend, who immediately climbed up and nuzzled his neck. With a sigh, he stoked the dying fire, knowing that soon it would be night. 

The former Jedi joined Aaru in the tent a while later, stepping inside and taking off his boots, then his cloak. 

Aaru had already disrobed, sitting beside his droid now and rubbing off the marks with his cloak. It whistled and Aaru just shook his head with a soft laugh, not responding. He glanced up to Alek as he worked, and pursed his lips. “Sorry for getting impatient earlier,” he finally apologized.

“No worries. The Jedi lifestyle is difficult to adopt… hence why typically training begins as small children. Still. I’m not known to give up on my padawans.” He folded his cloak, then pinched his brows. 

“Uh… mostly.”

“Ouch. I felt that one, buddy,” Aaru looked back down, scrubbing an extra tough spot on the expressionless, and yet extremely smug droid. “Let’s have dinner, and maybe you can explain meditation to me a little better,” he relieved his teacher of the brutal misspeak.

Alek nodded and began assembling what would be their dinner: leeks, nuts, and some unnamed purple vegetable he found he could cook and was edible and filling. He handed a portion to Aaru, then set some in front of himself. “Right. I believe I’ve already explained it, however.” 

“Yeah, but I still don’t get it. Like, I don’t get  _ how _ . I can’t just sit there, what do I think about? Do I think about anything? How do I ignore what’s going on around me when I can hear, like, everything?” He scrubbed a little harder and the droid studied him.

“It’s complicated, and many don’t understand their first try. The point is to  _ not  _ think about anything, and only feel. More specifically, feel the Force. It’s an essential first step to being able to harness it.” He began to eat the vegetable he cooked earlier in the day. “As for ignoring things…” he began with his mouth full, “It just comes naturally when you stop thinking. Your mind will eventually tune it out when you’re focused on only the Force.” 

Aaru took a piece of the vegetable and continued to polish his droid. “Really? Do you think trying to feel first might help me to stop thinking? What if I’m thinking about feeling?”

“Then… don’t,” he replied simply with a shrug, eating a leek casually while leaning on an elbow. The fox sauntered over to the droid, nose trembling as it sniffed it curiously. Why was this boy rubbing the droid so much? 

“Wow, okay. I guess I’ll try,” the apprentice puffed, and set down the robes he was using to clean his droid, reaching out a hand for the fox-thing to smell. He hadn’t formally met the green, glossy little thing, only watched it love on Alek. 

The small creature sniffed Aaru, ears pinned back cautiously. Then, it crept closer and nuzzled his hand, expecting pets. “If it helps, focus on your breathing. It takes practice,” he said more seriously. 

He’d like to think he was a pretty good teacher. Just a little out of practice. 

Aaru smiled and pet the soft little thing. “Thanks, master. Say, what did you name this little fella? Does he have a name?” He scritched its feathery fur gently, as to make a good impression on the little thing. 

“I call him Darma. He’s been around here since I first got here. I’m not sure why, but he really likes me.” The creature chittered and climbed into Aaru’s lap. “I guess he likes you too.”

He pet Darma’s plush self. “I think R-4 likes him too. R-4’s been scanning everything out here.” He turned back to the bot. “You’re having the time of your life, huh?” 

R-4 replied in his droid language, and Aaru nodded. “I bet. Nerd.” He bumped his shoulder on the robot, who made a raspberry-like chirrup. Aaru continued to stroke the pet, eating just a little at a time. “You know, Alek, all the life forms here seem to like you. Do you not eat them because they like you, or do they like you because you don’t eat them?”

“A mix of both. I was never really much of a meat-eater before, and now I have all the more reason not to eat them. I couldn’t eat anything that has a mother or babies.” He scooped up some nuts into his mouth. “Most of these creatures are predator-less. If I came here and started eating them, it’d ruin their ecosystem, and would just be really mean.” 

Darma squeaked in delight and stretched himself out for belly rubs. 

“Damn, no predators?” He pet Darma’s soft little tummy. “With you, these little guys must be living it up,” he laughed as the little bogwing wiggled all about. “Cute!”

R-4 looked between the two, and booped. “No, I’m not replacing you, bolts. You know, I could accuse you of the same." He nudged his droid and thumbed Darma's cheeks, their little eyes shutting pleasantly.

“No predators. All of the inhabitants eat bugs or are herbivores.” Alek reached over and opened up Darma’s cat-like maw, revealing a few canines but also many molars, resembling a human’s mouth. Darma’s resembled a canine, but the rest of his anatomy was more rodent-like. “Don’t spoil him too much, he gets needy,” Alek puffed, watching Darma drown in delight. 

“Don’t worry about that. Trust me, you give this droid an inch and he takes a mile.” A small prod exited the canister of R-4, and gave a small jolt of electricity to his master, making Aaru jump and startling poor Darma off his lap. “Oh my gosh, R-4, I was kidding!” He snorted, then slapped the bot’s front and stood with his empty bowl. “Anyway. Thanks for the food, boss man,” Aaru returned to Alek, setting his small bowl with the rest of the containers to be washed later in the streams. 

He smiled and nodded, laughing after the boy got zapped. “Maybe we should bring R4 along during training,” he commented as his creature returned to him after it got spooked by Aaru. He took some more nuts in his palm and held them out for Darma to eat as they spoke. 

“Well. It’s sundown soon. We should be getting to sleep, I plan to wake up at the crack of dawn.”

“Of course you do, master. Can I sleep in?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.


End file.
